La Familia
by McLance
Summary: Charlie begins to worry about the permanency of her place in the Lancer household, and has some growing pains to struggle through.
1. Chapter 1

The day did not begin well. Charlie woke, and shortly after that she felt herself turning prickly. _Prickly._ She stubbed her toe

on the edge of her dressing table, and hollered and hobbled in pain.

When Teresa came hurrying down the hallway to see what was the matter, she checked over Charlie's hurt toe, but seemed

a trifle amused, which annoyed Charlie.

She was holding Charlie's foot in her lap, binding the toes together with cloth.

"There. That will help support it, at least," Teresa said.

"It hurts," Charlie complained.

"Stubbed toes always do," Teresa agreed, but added with humor, "But, my goodness, the way you were hollering, I thought it was something

horrible-a huge rat, or a broken leg, at least-"

Indignant, Charlie pulled her foot from Teresa's grasp. "Maybe I should really break my leg next time," she said, again, insulted by Teresa's manner.

"Oh, don't be such a goose," Teresa told her.

_A goose? _ Though it was such that an older sister would say, it still irritated Charlie.

At school, when the recess bell rang, and the children exploded outside to their thirty minutes of precious freedom, Charlie

was still favoring her sore foot. Rebecca, as a true friend might, sympathized with Charlie over Teresa's attitude.

Lucy, and a new girl at school, whose name was Carrie, had become good friends, and they were walking, arm in arm,

around the schoolyard. At first Charlie had been glad about Lucy having a new friend, since it gave Lucy less time to

annoy her. But, it seems that along with the new friend, Lucy had gained also a penchant for sniping, and gossiping worse

than before. In Charlie's opinion, Lucy had gotten _mean._ When Lucy and Carrie strolled over to where Charlie and Rebecca sat,

Lucy spoke first. "Hullo."

"Hullo," Rebecca answered, but Charlie was silent.

Lucy began chattering about something or other. Charlie was eating her carrots and not really listening, when Lucy

said something that did get her attention. When Lucy and her parents were out eating the previous Saturday evening, at

the hotel restaurant, they'd seen Scott there, as well. Lucy announced that fact as though it was something that would come

as a surprise to Charlie.

Truthfully, Charlie hadn't known Scott's _exact_ destination, but she knew that he'd been out for the evening.

"So?" she asked Lucy.

"He was out with that lady-the one he's been seeing so much of," Lucy continued.

Again, not a total surprise to Charlie. She'd known that Scott was going to see the woman he'd been keeping company with

occasionally. The sister of Mr. Val's lady friend. Hallie Lyons.

"Or did you not know he was going to be out with her?" Lucy asked, looking entirely too pleased with herself.

"Of course I did," Charlie said. "He told me."

"Oh. I just wondered," Lucy said, with a smile that wasn't really a smile at all.

"And, he's not seeing _so much_ of her," Charlie corrected. "Just whenever she's in town, is all."

"My mother said he looks like a man in love," Lucy said, and then, just at that moment, before Charlie could think of, or

utter a scalding retort, Miss Susan came out on the steps and rang the school bell. Kids began running towards the

school at the signal of recess being over.

Charlie sat where she was, feeling as though her chest was tight. Too tight to draw a good breath.

Rebecca was standing, looking at Charlie. "Are you alright?" Rebecca asked.

"I don't see why Lucy's mother would say that-" Charlie said, feeling her face get hot. "Scott's not _in love._ He would have

told me if he was feeling seriously about-"

"Sure, he would have," Rebecca agreed. She darted a look at the front door. Most of the kids were inside by now. "Come on, Charlie," she

urged.

Even as badly as she was feeling at that moment, Charlie heard the anxious tone to Rebecca's voice. Rebecca never, ever,

got into trouble at school. She wouldn't want to be late going in, or make it appear that they'd been ignoring Miss Susan's

summons. So Charlie roused herself, and the two girls went inside. The afternoon seemed intermidable, to Charlie. She

could hardly concentrate on her lessons. To the point that Miss Susan had to speak to her about it. At the end of the

day, she asked Charlie to remain after class. She asked first, if there was anything bothering Charlie. When Charlie shook

her head in denial, and said, "No, ma'm," Miss Susan looked unconvinced.

"You seemed to be having difficulty in concentrating," the teacher continued. "And-you so rarely misspell your words as you

did-"

"I'm sorry," Charlie said.

"You don't need to apologize, Charlie," Miss Susan said. "I was only concerned that there was something troubling

you."

"I guess I need to study them more," Charlie offered in excuse. She only wanted to get away from the teacher's inquiring manner,

kind though it may be.

"Alright. Well, then, you may go," Miss Susan said.

When Charlie came out into the bright sunshine, Rebecca was waiting there, for her. Other than a couple of the boys, the

rest of the schoolyard was deserted already.

"You didn't have to wait for me," Charlie told her.

"I wanted to," Rebecca said, simply. "Did she think you were daydreaming?"

"No. She just asked if there was something bothering me. And, I told her no," Charlie said, with a sigh.

As they walked towards the stables together, Rebecca said, "Don't even listen to that Lucy-you know how she is. She's always

talking about things she doesn't know anything about."

"Thanks," Charlie told her, gratefully. "But, maybe Scott _is_ starting to-feel stronger about her-about Miss Lyons."

"But he would have talked to you," Rebecca argued, loyally. "Didn't you say that he told you if he ever had those

sort of thoughts and feelings about a lady, he would talk it over with you?"

"Yeah. He _did_ say that," Charlie said.

"Well, see, then? Lucy is just trying to get under your skin, the same as always," Rebecca predicted.

"Maybe. But, it was her _mother_ that said it, actually. And she's grown up. She would know-how people are when

they're in love. Don't you suppose?" Charlie asked, worriedly.

Rebecca shrugged, looking distressed.

"I've never really been around anybody that was in love," Charlie admitted. "I mean, Katherine-my aunt-she had

lots of men friends and all, but she flirted with them all, just the same. Not like she was in love with any of them, specially. And,

I don't remember about my parents. Teresa and her beau seem sometimes like they're in love, but then other times, Teresa

seems to lose interest in him." Charlie sighed. "What about _your_ folks?" she asked Rebecca. "I mean, do they act like they're

in love?"

"Well," Rebecca said, considering, "I think it's different for those that have been married a long time. I mean, it's not like

when a couple first falls in love, you know? My ma and pa-well, they're mostly nice enough to each other, but they don't act all

googly-eyed, or anything."

Nearing the stable now, the girls paused, before Rebecca headed the opposite way to her own home.

"I've never even met her," Charlie said. "Scott's never said anything about us meeting."

"He would if he was feeling-well, if he was thinking about the future with her," Rebecca said. "Wouldn't he?"

"I think he would," Charlie said.

"I have to go," Rebecca said, sounding regretful. "I'll be in trouble if I'm late for my chores."

"Okay. See you tomorrow," Charlie said.

"Try not to worry," Rebecca advised.

**L**


	2. Straight out

At home later, Charlie put her tack away, and brushed Gurth, thinking all the while. Fretting. Wondering. She went inside and was

greeted by Maria, who gestured to the snack waiting on the table.

"I'll go change," Charlie told her, gesturing at her school dress. Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie changed to her overalls and

older shoes, and took time to hang her dress up, instead of leaving it in a heap on her floor. Back downstairs, in the kitchen,

Charlie ate her cookies and fruit, and drank her milk, watching as Maria bustled around the kitchen. Charlie found herself

feeling suddenly curious about Maria, and her marriage.

"Maria?" she asked, tentatively.

"Si?"

"Have you been married a long time?"

"Casadas?" Maria asked.

"Yes. Casadas," Charlie said, stumbling over the Spanish word.

"Nosotras estamos casadas veintidos anos," Maria said. "Twenty-two."

"Twenty-two years?" Charlie asked, thinking that seemed like a very long time.

"Si," Maria verified, with a smile.

After that, Charlie wandered back outside, and went to tend to the pups and gather the eggs. She saw men riding in

from the west. Usually, if she happened to be outside, and saw men approaching, she would walk out, to see if Scott was

among them. Then he would hoist her up behind him on the saddle, and give her a ride back to the house. She'd told herself

that today she wouldn't, but then, when she thought about it, Charlie found it too tempting to not go to meet him.

She began her walk out, telling herself that she would just ask him about the previous Saturday evening. About Miss Lyons. See

what he said, or if she might be able to tell anything by the way he answered.

The family had, the day before, asked Scott if he'd had a good time the previous evening. That was what they generally did, or sometimes

Murdoch would, and Scott would say something about where they'd gone or what they'd done, or such as that.

But now, Charlie wanted more in-depth answers.

So, since she'd hesitated about walking out to meet Scott, she wasn't waiting on the tall rocks as was usual, but only, instead, halfway

between the barn and rocks.

When Scott pulled to a stop beside her, and the other hands rode on around and past, he said, "Hey there, kiddo."

"Hi."

Scott held out a hand and Charlie grasped it, and he swung Charlie up behind him, with practiced ease. They'd done it

so often that it was done with grace.

Riding back towards the house, Charlie wrapped her arms around his waist. Scott patted one of her hands that rested

there, around his middle. "How was school?" he asked her.

"It was fine," Charlie said, and then felt a prickle of conscience, remembering the mistakes at spelling recitation, and that Miss

Susan had questioned her.

"That's good. Anything interesting happen?" he asked.

"Not really," Charlie said. And then, she said, "There's a new girl."

"Is there?"

"Yes. Carrie Moore. Her family has only been here about a week."

"Well, that's good," Scott said, and patted her hand again. "Another friend, maybe, hmm?"

"No. I don't think so," Charlie said, with spirit.

Scott turned his head just slightly to take her in. "You sound very definite," he said.

When Charlie was silent, Scott faced forward again. "What's wrong with this girl?" he asked.

"I just don't think we could be good friends," Charlie said. "She's-well, her and Lucy are best friends now. And, I don't want to

be friends with anybody who's a friend to Lucy Stone." Her tone was adamant, and peeved.

"What's Lucy done now?" Scott asked, sounding slightly amused.

"She's despicable," Charlie said.

"Despicable, huh? That's quite a handle to pin onto somebody," Scott said.

"Well, she is," Charlie said.

"Have you had a quarrel with Lucy?" Scott asked.

"No," Charlie said, flatly. And then, she added, "Lucy's not kind. She's always trying to stir up trouble, and bad

feelings."

"Mmmm," Scott said. "Well, Lucy might be a bit spoiled-"

"More than a _bit,"_ Charlie interrupted.

"It's rude to interrupt," Scott said.

"Sorry," Charlie said, to the center of his back.

"With some people, you just have to do the best you can to get along. Even those that are spoiled," he advised.

Charlie got quiet after that, and, back at the corrals, Scott lowered her to the ground, and then dismounted. Beginning to

unsaddle his horse, Scott _felt_ rather than _knew,_ that there was more to this than Charlie was saying. She stood, quietly,

beside him as he loosened the cinch. "Is there something else troubling you?" Scott asked, glancing at her. "Besides Lucy being

despicable?" he added, with a hint of a smile.

Seriously, Charlie met his eyes, for only a moment, and then let her gaze drift away, going to pet the horse's nose. She had the words formed to

just ask him, _straight out,_ if he was feeling more for Miss Lyons-

"Charlie?" he prompted, and Charlie realized that she was standing there, her mouth open, but not saying anything.

"I was wondering if you had a good time Saturday evening," Charlie said, rubbing her hands over the horse's neck.

"Yes. I did," Scott said. He wrinkled his forehead a bit, puzzled. He remembered Sunday morning's breakfast table discussion.

Murdoch had inquired the same, whether Scott had had an enjoyable evening. Johnny had made a teasing remark about how

attractive Hallie Lyons was. And Charlie had been present to hear all of that. Scott searched thru the memory of it, but

he couldn't recollect that Charlie had appeared apprehensive in any way. Yet now, she was edgy, and seemed to not want

to look directly at him.

"You went to eat at the hotel restaurant, didn't you?" Charlie asked.

"That's right."

"With Mr. Val, and his-friend? I don't remember her name," Charlie said.

"Clarice," Scott said. "And, no, Val and Clarice weren't there with us for supper."

"Oh," Charlie said, feeling the small knot in her stomach tighten. She licked her lips.

Scott turned, his hand resting on the saddle horn, to give Charlie his full attention. "Charlie, what is it?" he asked.

"I just wondered about it," Charlie said, still not meeting his eye. "The Stone's were eating there, too, Saturday night. That's

what Lucy said."

"That's right-I remember seeing them there," Scott said, feeling totally perplexed at this point by her demeanor. He began

to put two and two together. He reached out and lifted Charlie's chin with his hand.

"Did Lucy say something to upset you?" he asked. "About me?"

"It's what her mother said."

"And what did her mother say?" he persisted.

"She said you looked like a man in love," Charlie admitted, with a hint of accusation in her tone.

Startled, Scott hesitated, and dropped his hand from her chin. "She did, huh?"

Charlie nodded.

Scott blew out a breath. "Well," he said. He paused, thinking. Into that pause, the supper bell rang out, calling them

in to the evening meal. Teresa, sighting the still-unsaddled horse, and Scott and Charlie standing there, by the corral, called

out, "Scott! Supper!"

"We'll be in after a bit!" he called back.

And then, he took Charlie's hand, and walked her the few feet to the corral fence, where he lifted her up to sit

on the wide top rail.

"Shouldn't we go to supper?" Charlie asked him.

"We will. When we're finished talking this thru."

"We can talk about it later, Scott," Charlie said. She found, suddenly, that she wasn't certain she _wanted_ to discuss it

after all. It was unnerving to think about-

"No. We'll talk now," he said. Scott, instinctively, knew this was a matter that needed to be settled _now._ Not put off. Otherwise, Charlie

would simmer inside, and worry, and be anxious and wondering. All of those things.

It struck him in that moment, just how _well_ he knew the little girl sitting just in front of him. So, therefore, he began

the discussion strongly. He put one hand on either side of her, and met her eye to eye.

"I'm sorry that Mrs. Stone got that impression, and I'm sorrier for the fact that she made a comment like that in Lucy's

hearing. I don't think I was _acting_ any certain way, other than polite, and enjoying Hallie's company," he began.

He hesitated, choosing his words. "I do enjoy her company. We have things in common with one another. I find her

interesting to be with. But, I'm _not_ in love with her, Charlie."

Charlie ran those large brown eyes of hers over his face. Scott didn't miss the look of relief that passed over her own

expression.

"You're not?" she asked.

"No."

Charlie nibbled at her lower lip, and said, "Do you _want_ to be? In love with her? Or somebody else?"

"Sometime, yes," he said, honestly. "I hope I meet somebody that I'd like to share my life with."

"Do you think you might feel that about Miss Lyons sometime?"

"I think Hallie and I will continue to be friends, and spend time together when we can, but no, I don't think we'll have the

sort of feelings that people should have to marry one another," he said.

"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Scott gave ample moments for his words to sink in, and then he said, "I remember that we talked about this another time, and I made

you a promise then. Did I not?"

Charlie nodded, somewhat tremulously.

"What do you remember that I said?' Scott prompted.

"That you would tell me if you began to feel special about a lady," Charlie admitted.

"That's right. What else?"

"That-we would talk about it, and that she would know about me, and that I would be part of it for her, along with you."

"Yes, ma'm," he said. "So, did you think I'd forgotten that promise? Or that I wouldn't follow thru with it?"

"I didn't think that," Charlie protested. "I _knew_ you'd keep it. I just-" she hesitated.

"You just listened to what Lucy had to say, and let it stir you up," Scott finished for her.

When Charlie showed him a guilty expression, he said, "You could have just asked me, straight out, about it, instead of

dancing all around the subject, and getting yourself worked up unnecessarily. Am I right?"

"Yes, Scott," Charlie admitted.

He gave Charlie an intent look, and then said, "I can see how it would have bothered you, though. Hearing something like

that," in acknowledgement.

Encouraged by that, his validation of her feelings, Charlie gave him a tentative, small smile.

"I'd much prefer that you ask me something, instead of worrying over it to yourself," Scott said. "Don't you think that

would be a better choice, all the way around?"

Charlie nodded again. He still looked serious. Sort of _stern. _

"Are you angry with me?" she asked him. She didn't think that he _was,_ but, still-

"No," he said, and immediately Charlie felt lighter.

Scott cupped her chin in his hand again. "Are _you_ angry with _me?"_ he countered.

At first, Charlie was surprised by that. Then she saw the beginnings of a smile from him, which she returned.

"No," she told him.

"Well, that's fine, then," Scott pronounced, teasing. "We're neither one angry at the other. Should we go in and eat our supper, before

Johnny leaves us with nothing?"

Charlie wrapped her arms around his neck and hugged him.

**Lancer**


	3. Stone supper

Even though Charlie felt better after her talk with Scott, about his friendship with his lady friend, those better feelings

didn't extend towards Lucy Stone.

There was a group of girls gathered at the lunch hour, sitting in a circle on the grass outside the school building, eating together. Lucy had begun to

talk of an upcoming party at her house, regaling the group with the preparations that her mother was making.

"There's going to be a pig roasted," she was announcing. "And I get to help my mother, and be a hostess."

Charlie didn't pay much attention to Lucy's bragging, _which is what she considered it to be,_ until later, when the girls

were collecting their leftovers, and Lucy said to her, "My mother's inviting all the Lancers to the dinner party."

Charlie, who was not even a bit interested in hearing more about the Stone's party, gave a shrug.

"There's going to be a _senator_ there, and two _judges,"_ Lucy continued. "But my mother says that once I've helped

greet everyone, and we've eaten, then we can go upstairs to my room with our dessert."

Things suddenly became clear to Charlie, with an unwelcome jolt. Lucy thought that _she_ was going to come to

the fancy get-together.

Well, that error might as well get cleared up _right now._ "Teresa will probably come, and Murdoch," Charlie told Lucy. "But, not me."

"Why not?" Lucy demanded, looking surprised.

"I'll probably be busy," Charlie said. She sounded blunt, she knew, and saw that Lucy looked insulted.

"How do you know? Saturday's a long time away," Lucy protested.

"I'm usually busy on Saturdays," Charlie said, purposely vague.

Lucy actually looked as though she was upset by Charlie's words. "But, I thought if you came, then I'd have somebody

my age to talk to," she said.

"You could ask Carrie," Charlie suggested.

"Her family has to go and visit her grandmother this weekend," Lucy said.

"Well-you could ask somebody else," Charlie said.

"My mother said, it would be better if it was you, since the Lancers are already on the guest list," Lucy continued.

The school bell was being rung, and Charlie managed to get inside, without having to talk anymore to Lucy about

the dinner party.

At home that evening, Charlie played with her pups, and spent time on her swing, and forgot all about the Stone's

upcoming party.

**L**

As the family sat down to their supper meal the next evening, Charlie found herself extremely hungry, and eyed the

roast beef and potatoes with anticipation.

"Mmm," Johnny said, spooning some mashed potatoes onto his own plate, and then passing the bowl to Charlie. "Maria's

outdone herself tonight."

"I'm so hungry," Charlie commented, taking a helping of the potatoes, and passing the bowl across to Teresa.

"I thought I heard your belly rumblin'," Johnny teased.

"I feel as though I haven't eaten in weeks," Charlie said, in exaggeration, taking two pieces of the tender roast beef.

"Didn't you eat your lunch today?" Scott asked her.

"Yes. I ate it all," Charlie said.

"Sounds as though you're in a growth spurt," Murdoch said, from his end of the table, sounding indulgent. "You'll likely be

shooting up like a weed."

Charlie was in the process of buttering her roll when Teresa's additions to the conversation caught her attention.

Teresa was talking about the upcoming Saturday evening gathering at the Stone's home. Apparently the invitation

to the Lancer family had been extended by Mrs. Stone when Teresa was helping at the church with the Ladies Aid group. There was

to be a silent auction of paintings, and other things at the upcoming evening, to raise funds for the new library in town.

"Apparently it's going to be quite the social event. And the Stone's hope to raise a lot of money," Teresa was saying. "Judge Carson

is supposed to be there. You know him, don't you, Murdoch?"

"Yes, I've met him a time or two," Murdoch said. "He's a pleasant man."

"I think I'll wear my new blue dress," Teresa chattered on. She paused to address Johnny across the table.

"There's going to be dancing," Teresa told him.

"That right?" Johnny asked, biting into his roll.

"It'll be a nice evening," Teresa said. "You'll have a good time."

"I don't think so, hermanita," Johnny said. "It doesn't sound like my sort of evenin'."

"It won't do you any harm," Teresa said, in a scolding way.

"We'll see," Johnny said, noncommittally.

"She asked _all_ of us," Teresa said. "That includes _you,_ Johnny. And, it's for a good cause."

Johnny shrugged, and Murdoch interceded smoothly, "Maybe you ought to give Johnny a chance to think about it, Teresa."

Teresa subsided, and after Charlie had finished chewing the bite of roast beef in her mouth, she took her opportunity

to speak up and say what was on her mind. This was as good a time as any.

"I'll stay home with Johnny Saturday night," Charlie announced.

Teresa looked immediately disapproving. "Charlie, don't be like that."

"I'm not being like anything," Charlie protested. "I'd just rather stay home and keep Johnny company."

"Johnny might still end up joining us," Murdoch said, obviously not taking the conversation too seriously.

"Well, I don't want to go," Charlie said, deciding it was time to state her true feelings.

"Mrs. Stone said today that Lucy asked _especially_ about you coming. She really wants you to be there," Teresa said.

"I don't _care_ what Lucy wants," Charlie said, with spirit.

"Charlie-" Teresa began, and Charlie felt certain that Teresa was going to launch into either scolding, or cajoling.

"I _don't!"_ Charlie said.

Teresa pressed her lips together, eyeing Charlie.

Faced with the attention of all four adults by this time, Charlie felt defensive.

"I don't think there's any need to get upset," Murdoch said.

"No. There's not," Scott said, in agreement.

"Let's have our pie," Murdoch suggested, and Teresa got up, wordlessly, to go to the kitchen.

"I'll help Teresa with the coffee," Johnny said, and he got up, as well, and followed Teresa.

Left there, with Murdoch and Scott, Charlie squirmed a bit under what seemed to her to be their scrutinizing gazes.

In a moment of pique, Charlie spoke impulsively. "I shouldn't _have_ to go, if I really don't want to. Should I?"

Murdoch cast a glance towards Scott, letting Scott be the one to reply to her.

"Not necessarily. There's no need for you to get so worked up, that's for certain," Scott said, firmly.

Charlie heard that firmness and laid her fork down on her plate with a clink.

"I don't like Lucy," she said, in a more subdued voice.

"You've made that plain enough," Murdoch said.

Murdoch sounded less indulgent now. More stern-like. Charlie flicked a glance down the table at him, and then

at Scott, feeling nervous.

"Pie and coffee," Johnny announced, coming back carrying the coffee pot, and followed by Teresa, carrying the pie.

As the pie was sliced, Charlie kept her hands folded in her lap, and when Teresa held out a plate with a piece of pie

to her, Charlie shook her head.

"No, thank you," she said.

"What happened to your big appetite, pequeno?" Johnny asked her. Then in a typical Johnny-like manner, he took the plate

from Teresa and sat it in front of Charlie.

So, Charlie ate her pie, and was glad when there was no further conversation about the Stone's party.

**L**


	4. Advice

That night, Charlie leaned against Scott's arm, as they sat on her bed, listening as he read from _"Eight Cousins'._

When he'd finished the chapter, and closed the book, Charlie kept her head where it was, on his arm.

"Why do you let Lucy Stone upset you?" Scott asked her, quietly.

Charlie shrugged, not lifting her head. "I don't know."

"Think about it."

"I just don't like her," Charlie said, simply.

"I understand that. There's no rule that you have to like everyone," he said, calmly.

"I'm glad about that rule," Charlie said, and Scott chuckled.

"So think about it," he said, again, and at that, Charlie did raise her head to look at him.

"Why do you let her stir you up?" Scott asked.

"She irritates me."

Scott raised an eyebrow, obviously waiting for more.

"She likes to _needle_ me," Charlie said. "She likes to annoy me, on purpose."

Scott was quiet for a moment or so, and then said, "The next time she says something to annoy you, I want you to practice

counting to ten."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead at him. "What will that do?"

"If you do it slowly, it will give you a chance to consider whether you really _have_ to reply at all. Or, if you do, your response might be

less irritated," he said. "It may help you to not get so annoyed with her."

"Oh," Charlie said, considering what he was saying. "Like count aloud?"

Scott smiled. "You could. But no, generally, people do it silently."

"Do you do it?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"Sometimes."

"Well-I guess I can give it a try," Charlie said.

"Good," Scott said, patting her on her knee.

"I really, _really,_ don't want to go to the Stone's on Saturday," Charlie said.

"I think you made that very clear at supper," Scott said.

Charlie squeezed his arm a bit, looking up into his face. "Are you going to make me go?" she asked.

"I think you would be just fine if you went," Scott said. "Don't you?"

Charlie gave him a somewhat pleading look, and then sighed. "I guess," she said.

"If Johnny decides to stay home, and he agrees, you can stay home with him," Scott said.

Charlie squeezed his arm again. "Hooray!" she said.

"No badgering him about it, or trying to coax him," Scott said.

"Okay," Charlie said, in agreement.

"And no need being rude to Lucy about it, either," he warned.

Again, she wrinkled her forehead in question.

"For instance, saying to her that you don't want to come, or that you have plans to stay with Johnny. Anything like that. You can keep your

own counsel about it," he said.

"What's that, _own counsel_?" Charlie asked.

"It means-to keep your thoughts or your plans to yourself," he said.

"Oh," Charlie said.

"Alright. Get settled down into bed now," Scott said.

Charlie scrambled obediently under the sheets and quilt, as he tucked it up around her.

"I always learn new things from you," she told him. "Like-about keeping my own counsel, and names of all the sorts of

clouds, and lots of things."

"I'm glad," Scott said.

Charlie sat up to hug him.

**Lancer**

Just a short one, a really really short chapter, but I am going to be writing a bunch!


	5. A kit of rabbits

The next day at school, Charlie followed Scott's advice. When Lucy began, at recess time, talking again about the party

her parents were giving, Charlie counted to ten silently, in her head. To her somewhat surprise, she found that it _did_ help, and kept her from

feeling so irritated. She concentrated on her counting, and it helped to mask Lucy's voice.

When Lucy began to pester her again about whether she was coming, Charlie remembered to say what Scott had suggested.

To state that her plans were not definite.

Lucy seemed a trifle surprised by Charlie's response, but only nodded, then, and added that she hoped that Charlie would

come.

"There's going to be all sorts of desserts," Lucy said, temptingly. "Cakes and pies-and cobblers. All sorts. Probably at least

fifteen or more. My mother says we can try every single one of them, if we want to."

Charlie had to admit, that particular idea _did_ sound tempting. If there was anything that she did truly love, it was sweets or

desserts. Still, Maria always had a dessert or two tucked away...

**L**

When Charlie rode up on Gurth that afternoon after school, Scott who had been working near the barn, walked up to

greet her.

"Hey, kiddo," he greeted her, reaching up to lay his hand on Gurth's neck.

"Hi."

"How was your day at school?" he asked.

"It was good. Except I missed three of my spelling words," Charlie said.

"Well, I guess you'd better work on those then, huh?"

Charlie nodded, and Scott held the reins as she dismounted.

"I tried your advice, too," she said.

"Which advice was that?" he asked her.

"About Lucy. About counting to ten."

"Oh, _that advice,"_ Scott said, smiling down at her.

"Yes. And it helped," Charlie told him.

"Good. I'm glad about that."

"Uh huh," Charlie said. As Scott helped her to unsaddle Gurth, Charlie told him about what Lucy had told her. About

all the desserts there would be to partake of at the Stone's get-together.

"She said at least fifteen or more," Charlie reported, tagging after him, as he carried her saddle for her.

"That many, huh?" he asked, sounding amused.

"She said her mother said if I came we could eat as much as we wanted of all of them," Charlie chattered on.

"Sounds like a sure-fire way to end the evening with a stomachache," Scott said.

Charlie giggled at that, and Scott asked, "So, has the thought of all those sweet things to eat caused you to change your

mind about going with us?"

Charlie answered him seriously, even though she knew he was likely teasing.

"No. I'd rather stay home with Johnny, and eat some of Maria's chocolate cake," she said.

**L**

Saturday night came and went. Staying home with Johnny as she'd hoped, Charlie was more than content. Johnny played

two games of checkers with her, then showed her how to whittle out a piece of wood, instructing her on the safe use of the pocketknife.

And, though Charlie's finished product didn't resemble anything even remotely recognizable, she still enjoyed the

learning.

After that, they raided the ice chest together, sitting at the kitchen table drinking tall glasses of milk, and eating healthy-sized

pieces of Maria's chocolate cake.

"This is good," Charlie said, in satisfaction, licking the frosting from her fork.

"Nothin' better than Maria's chocolate cake," Johnny agreed.

"There's pie, too," Charlie told him. "Cherry." She turned in her chair to gesture. "There. Covered with that cloth-"

"I reckon we ought to leave that," Johnny said. "Likely it's meant for tomorrow."

"Maria won't care," Charlie maintained.

"I don't think Scott would be any too pleased if you're up all night with a belly that's hurtin'," Johnny said. "We'd better

leave the pie alone."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, disappointed.

**L**

Sunday passed in peaceful pleasantness. After church services, and their Sunday lunch, Charlie spent her afternoon playing

with the two pups, and swinging high on her swing.

**L**

Monday morning, riding to school, Charlie was distracted by a squeaking sound from one of the ditches as she

rode past. Pulling Gurth to a stop, Charlie listened closely, and heard the sound again. She dismounted, and left Gurth

ground-tied there in the roadway, walking slowly towards the squeaking sound.

She waded into the knee-length grass, and pushing it aside, came to the source of the noises. A nest of baby rabbits, with just

the beginnings of fur, was nestled there. Charlie crouched down to look closer at the four babies, wondering where the mother

was. She hoped that the babies hadn't been abandoned.

It took all Charlie's resolve to not reach out and touch the babies, but she knew that wasn't best. Johnny had explained to her

the ways of wild things.

By the time she'd waded back thru the grass, and mounted Gurth, and rode on to the livery to leave the horse, it

was past time for school to begin. Even though she ran from the livery to the school building, there were no children still

out front. The doors were closed up tight.

Charlie paused to catch her breath. Miss Susan had already rung the bell. She was good and late for school by now.

**L**

Charlie stood outside those closed doors, trying to work past the embarrassment she knew she would feel once

she stepped inside. Embarrassment at being late to school, and walking in for everybody to stare at.

She wished she didn't have to, but there was no option but to do so.

So she finished scraping the mud from her shoes, as best as she could, and opened the heavy wooden door.

Miss Susan was already announcing lessons and she stopped to survey Charlie's entrance.

"Good morning, Charlie," was all she said.

Charlie uttered a soft 'Good morning' in return, and went to hastily slide into her seat. Concentrating on catching up

to what lessons had been given out, Charlie wasted no time looking around the room. Rebecca, though, as her seat mate,

gave Charlie's hand a sympathetic squeeze under the desk.

When the first recess was announced, and the other kids scrambled up and outside, Miss Susan quietly asked

Charlie to stay in.

Charlie wasn't surprised by the request. Miss Susan usually had a 'word' with kids when they came in late.

Even so, she felt her face get ever so warm in embarrassment.

Miss Susan, to her credit, was kind. She only asked Charlie why she'd been so tardy.

"Is everything alright at home?" she began by asking.

"Yes."

"What caused you to be so tardy?"

Charlie hesitated, wondering if she should just state that she'd tarried too long, or tell about the baby rabbits that had

caught her attention.

She settled for saying, "I took too long riding in."

"I see," Miss Susan said. "Well, I wouldn't like to see it become a habit, Charlie. Alright?"

"Yes, ma'm," Charlie said, feeling her face flame even more.

"You may go to recess now," Miss Susan said.

Charlie made her escape outside into the sunshine. She made her way to where Rebecca and some of the other girls were jumping

rope. She joined in at that for a few minutes, taking her turn both jumping, and turning the rope.

It was lunch break before she and Rebecca had a chance to talk, where others couldn't hear.

Sharing the cookies that Maria had packed for her with Rebecca, Charlie told her friend why she'd been late that morning.

Rebecca was interested in hearing all about the baby rabbits, and Charlie was beginning to feel better about things, when Lucy came

over and stood directly in front of the two girls.

"You didn't come Saturday night," Lucy announced, as though that would be a surprise to Charlie.

"No," Charlie said.

"You missed out," Lucy added.

"I had something else to do," Charlie said.

"My sister told Teresa that you should ought to come to evenings like ours, or else you won't know how to act when

you're older and have all your money, and have to be out in society," Lucy said.

Charlie remembered Scott's warning to count to ten-but just as swiftly, she disregarded that advice. She gave free rein

to her temper.

"Your sister needs to mind her own business," Charlie said. "While she still can!"

Lucy stared, wide-eyed. "What's that mean?" she asked.

"Your whole family likes to stick their noses where they don't belong," Charlie said. "Your mother-and your sister, and you, too!"

"You don't have to be rude, Charlie," Lucy said. Looking, of all things, as though she had _hurt_ feelings.

"You're the rude one," Charlie said. "And, I told you before-don't talk about me having money when I'm older-that's none of

your business, either!"

To Charlie's surprise, Lucy's blue eyes filled with tears, and she went running towards the schoolhouse.

"Uh oh," Rebecca said, softly.

"You think she's going to tattle to Miss Susan?" Charlie asked.

"I'll bet so," Rebecca said, sounding regretful.

Charlie blew out a breath. "Oh, no," she muttered.

**L**


	6. Awry

When it was time to go back inside the school building, Charlie was dreading it, thinking that Miss Susan might call her

up to her desk at the front. To talk to her about Lucy, and her complaints.

But, that didn't happen, and Charlie breathed a sigh of relief, finishing her afternoon's lessons. Once she'd collected

Gurth at the stable, and started home, she found the spot where the kit of rabbits had been.

They were still there, and the mother rabbit still wasn't in sight anywhere. She sat in the grass for awhile, watching the

newborn rabbits move and make noises.

At home, Charlie was greeted by Jelly, who eyed her accusingly. "You're late," he said.

"Not very late," Charlie objected.

"Scott was lookin' for ya awhile ago," Jelly said.

Charlie swung down from Gurth's back, feeling a tad of unease.

"He was? What did he want?" Charlie asked.

"Just askin' if I'd seen ya get home," the old man answered.

Charlie looked around, and said, "Where is he now?"

"I dunno-said he had to go with Johnny somewhere's. Said when ya got here, for ya to go straight on into the

house," Jelly reported.

"Hmm," Charlie said, mostly to herself. She went to unsaddle Gurth and turn him out into the pasture, and then

went inside the hacienda thru the door leading into the kitchen.

Maria was standing at the sink, washing pans. There were cookies cooling near the open window.

Maria turned to give Charlie a look, and then went back to her work.

"Tu ropa antes de las galletas," Maria said. '_Your clothes before cookies'._

Charlie said okay, and went on upstairs to her bedroom. She took off her school dress and put on some

overalls and a brown blouse, with her old boots.

Down in the kitchen, once again, she sat down at the table where Maria had placed a plate with two oatmeal

cookies, and a glass of milk.

Biting into one, just as Maria said, "Llegas muy tarde." _'You are very late'._

"Not very late," Charlie said, repeating her earlier words to Jelly. She knew that word. _Tarde._

Maria turned, a dark brow raised at Charlie's denial. Then, she gave at nod at the glass of milk in front of Charlie.

L

Charlie went out to do her chores, but had only just begun her work of gathering the eggs, when she saw Murdoch

arriving in a buggy. A ranch hand came forward to unhitch the buggy, and as Murdoch made his way towards the house,

he spotted Charlie and called out to her. Charlie waved in return, and went on collecting the eggs.

She was just finishing as she saw riders on horseback approaching from the pasture.

Johnny and Scott were both among the men riding in, and, instead of running to greet them, Charlie went to the

house hurriedly. She handed off the eggs to Maria, and washed her hands at the large sink. Then she took plates and went

to the dining room to begin setting the table. It was while she was doing that, walking around and laying a plate at each

chair, that Scott appeared at the doorway of the dining room.

"Hey," Scott greeted her, as he rolled his shirt sleeves back down, after washing up, to button the cuffs at the wrist.

"Hi," Charlie said, eyeing Scott a bit warily.

"You were late getting home, weren't you?" he asked, not surprisingly.

Charlie paused, a plate in hand. "Maybe a few minutes," she admitted.

"More than that," Scott corrected, giving her a questioning look. "What happened?"

"I didn't mean to be late," Charlie hedged.

"Alright," Scott said. "What was it? Did you just ride slowly, or what?"

"No," Charlie said, shortly. She set the remaining plate in her hand down on the table a bit harder than was necessary. "I just stopped

to look at baby rabbits. Alongside the road. That's _all."_

Scott regarded her quizzically, and said, nearly sternly, "What is the tone about?"

For a few long moments, Charlie looked back at him, feeling mutinous.

"I don't know," she answered, finally.

Scott gave her another longer, studied look. Sounds of Murdoch and Johnny's voices coming in the direction of the dining

room, and Maria, bustling in with a platter of ham to set on the table. As Charlie went past Scott she tried to avoid his

eye. She went back to the kitchen to gather silverware, and then, during the meal, she kept her eyes away from Scott,

and was mostly quiet, eating.

Until, Murdoch asked her, from his end of the table, "How was school today, darling?"

Charlie, who'd just put a bite of potato in her mouth, chewed it, and said, "It was alright."

"I heard that Susan's mother is ill again," Teresa offered up, from her place across the table. "Did she say anything about it to

the kids?" she asked Charlie.

"No," Charlie said.

"She wouldn't be likely to discuss it with the students," Murdoch told Teresa.

When the family had finished eating, and the table was being cleared, Scott paused beside Charlie, plates in his hands.

"Do you have homework?" he asked Charlie.

Charlie gave a brief nod in response.

"Go and get started on it, then," Scott said.

"I was going to play with the pups for a bit," Charlie protested. "I haven't had a chance to do that yet today-"

Scott gave her a intent look. "The afternoon's playtime is gone. Time for school work, and then bed."

Even though he didn't mention, did not say a word of it, Charlie knew very well that was his way of pointing out that

she'd been late home from school. She knew, too, that he would be talking to her about it later. Probably at bedtime.

Charlie sighed heavily, and took her handful of dishes to the kitchen.

Sitting at Murdoch's desk, and supposed to be doing her sums and writing her spelling words, Charlie was, instead,

sitting and looking thru one of Murdoch's books. One about animals, and their habitats, and common behaviors.

Rabbits, in particular.

She didn't hear the approaching footsteps until they were already upon her, and in the room with her. Johnny.

"Hey, there, pequeno," he said, in greeting, as Charlie had been hurriedly closing the book and pulling her arithmetic

paper close, so as to appear that she'd been working on it.

"Hi," Charlie returned.

Johnny gave her a grin. "What're ya up to?" he inquired.

"Schoolwork."

"Uh huh," he said, coming over nearer to the desk. "How come ya to be hidin' somethin'?" He was teasing, and only looked

amused. That would have been alright, but Scott was coming along, Teresa with him, and they overheard as well.

"What's this?" Scott asked, pausing to regard both Charlie and Johnny.

Charlie cast Johnny an imploring look, and he caught her drift, saying, "Nothin'. I was just teasin' the kid."

Scott gave a nod, but said, then, "Ready for me to check your arithmetic?"

Charlie shook her head, and Scott reached out to pull her paper closer with his fingers.

After glancing at it, Scott gave her a questioning look. "You've hardly begun," he said.

When Charlie only returned his look, but was silent, Scott asked, "Are your struggling?"

Charlie shook her head again. Scott's forehead furrowed and he said, "What have you been doing all this time?"

Charlie debated, and then sighed. "I was reading," she said, and tapped the animal book.

Scott glanced at the book, and then looked at Charlie again. "Can you finish your work here, or do you need to

go upstairs where it's quiet to finish?"

Charlie could tell he wasn't pleased with her. Combining her lack of effort at schoolwork, with being late home from school,

she recognized the signs of his displeasure. Charlie felt what she generally felt when Scott had that demeanor over something

she'd done or not done. She felt her stomach knotting in nerves, feeling off-balance.

"I can do it here," she told him.

Scott said no more then, but sat down with the rest of the family. He had a glass of bourbon, and they all talked together.

Charlie settled to her work, first the arithmetic, and then her spelling copying. She forced herself to concentrate.

When she was done, she stacked her books, and papers, and stood up, waiting for a lull in the conversation.

"Finished?" Scott asked her.

When she nodded, he said, "I'll check over your arithmetic. Go on up and get ready for bed."

Charlie knew it wasn't eight yet. The clock had not struck eight times. She sent a swift glance at the wooden

clock, and saw that it read seven-fifteen.

"Can I not stay up, until eight?" Charlie asked, from her chair behind Murdoch's large desk.

"No. Go on up. I'll be along in a bit," Scott said, with firmness.

Charlie felt her face get warm. Embarrassed. She avoided looking at Teresa, or Murdoch. Johnny had an expression of slight sympathy

on his face. And Scott. His expression wasn't angry. Nor was it affable. Somewhere in the middle of those.

Charlie said her good nights quickly, and made her way up the stairs to her bedroom. Upstairs, she stripped out of her overalls

and blouse, and pulled her nightgown over her head. She washed her face and hands, in the wash basin, and sat down to

begin to undo the braid in her hair. Sitting there, working to pull the hairbrush thru her tangled hair, Charlie wondered if Scott

was going to really get onto her, sternly, or if he would only restate the importance of being home on time, calmly.

She hoped for the latter, but worried for the former.

**L**


	7. Pretense

When Scott came upstairs, he brought, not just the '_Eight Cousins'_ book, but also a glass of milk and two cookies wrapped

in a napkin.

He came in the door that Charlie had opened again after she changed into her nightgown, and handed her the glass and

cookies.

"Thank you," Charlie said.

"They're good cookies," Scott said. He sat down on the bed beside her feet, and laid the book aside.

As she nibbled on the oatmeal cookie, Scott said, "When you're late getting home from school, or from anywhere, we

worry about you, Charlie. The reason for the rule isn't about keeping you from something you want to do-it's so we know

you're safe, or whether you might be needing help."

Charlie licked her lips, watching his serious expression. "I know," she said.

"Even if there's a distraction, like baby rabbits, you still need to follow the rules that have been set for you," he said.

"Okay," Charlie said, subdued. She took another nibble of the cookie.

"Do we need to talk about it more?" Scott asked.

Charlie shook her head. "No."

After that, Scott read from the book, while Charlie finished her cookies, and sipped at her milk.

**L**

Riding past the nest of baby rabbits the next morning was too great a temptation for Charlie. Too great a temptation not

to stop. So, stop she did. The tiny creatures were still there, though now there were only three, not four. Still no mother rabbit

in sight. Charlie moved more grass up around the nest, thinking to protect it from the wind.

She made it to school, as Miss Susan was just closing the door to admittance.

"Good morning, Charlie," the teacher greeted her.

"Good morning," Charlie said, breathlessly.

She waited for the teacher to ask her why she was nearly tardy again, only Miss Susan didn't ask. She looked faintly

disapproving, and said only, "Is everything alright?"

"Yes, ma'm," Charlie said, and went on to her desk.

At recess the talk was of a mother-daughter picnic that was upcoming two days later at the school's lunchtime. Charlie listened until she couldn't

stand it any longer. Then she went inside to sit, and when Miss Susan asked what was wrong, Charlie only said,

"Nothing, ma'm."

"Is this about the picnic on Thursday?" Miss Susan asked, kindly. "Because, if it is, Charlie, it's _alright._ I'm sure that you could

come along with Rebecca and her mother if you liked, or even-"

"It's not that, ma'm," Charlie said. She searched about for a near excuse. "I have a headache, is all."

"Do you need to be dismissed to go home?" the teacher asked.

At first Charlie was going to refuse, say that she would be alright, but then, it was too difficult to resist the temptation.

She told Miss Susan yes, and then, amid her teacher's concerns, she gathered her lunch pail and books, and went

back out into the sunshine. Some of the kids called out to ask where she was going, and Rebecca came running up.

Charlie whispered the truth of it to Rebecca, but told the other kids she was going home because she was not feeling well.

After she'd garnered Gurth from the stable, Charlie rode out to the edge of town, to the cemetery. She found some wild flowers

growing in the ditch nearby, and picked them. She knelt in front of Burl's grave, and laid the yellow and white flowers there.

She talked to Burl-told him how the two pups were doing, and other things happening around the ranch. When she arrived

home, nearly two hours earlier than was usual, Jelly met her with a puzzled expression.

"What're ya doin' home?" he demanded, slipping his fingers thru the bridle.

"The teacher said I could come home," Charlie said.

"Get sent home, did ya?" Jelly asked, cackling a bit.

"No, I didn't," Charlie snapped. The old man was irritating her.

"No need ta take my head off," Jelly complained. "I'll put your horse up for ya."

Charlie mumbled her thanks, and dismounted, handing the reins off to Jelly. She went into the hacienda, feeling guilty

about not tending to her own horse. It would be different if she were _really_ ill, but she wasn't. Maria turned from rolling out

dough on the table to look up at Charlie.

"Lo que ha sucedido?" _What has happened?_

Charlie laid her books and lunch pail there on the table. "Un poco," she said, and touched her forehead.

Instantly, Maria became focused and solicitous. She insisted Charlie go upstairs to her bedroom to change her clothes,

and then lay down to rest. Charlie went without complaint, snagging a book from Murdoch's shelves to take with her.

She pulled on her comfortable play clothes, soft cotton and denim, and then curled up on her window seat to read.

After a few more minutes, Maria came bustling into the room, carrying a tray with a cup of steaming tea, and some sliced

apples.

"Bebe eso," Maria said, handing Charlie the cup. Charlie wasn't sure what she'd said, but she took the cup and, at Maria's

nod, she took a sip. It was hot, and it was _sweet. Very, very sweet._

"Bueno?" Maria asked. _Good?_

"Yes, it is very good," Charlie said, liking the sweet drink immensely. "Bueno."

Maria nodded with satisfaction, and looked pleased, motioning for Charlie to lay down and then covering her with a quilt.

"Rest," Maria instructed, and then went out of the room.

Charlie nibbled on her apple slices, and finished the tea, and then, reading, grew more and more sleepy.

She was awakened by Scott's hand on her knee, and when she opened her eyes, he was sitting there beside her, on the

window seat.

"Hey, kiddo," he said, in greeting.

"Mmm, hi," Charlie said, stretching a bit.

"Maria says you came home early from school," Scott said, sounding concerned. "She said you had a headache."

Charlie settled for giving him a slight nod of acknowledgement.

"How about now? How are you feeling?" he asked.

"I feel alright," Charlie said.

"Good. Some sleep helped, huh?"

"I guess so," Charlie said, sitting up.

"Well, you ought to take it easy the rest of the evening."

"Okay."

"Supper'll be on in a few minutes. Want to wake up a little more, or come downstairs with me now?" he asked.

"I'll come down with you," Charlie said.

They walked down together, and, once at the bottom of the stairs, Murdoch was waiting. He smoothed back her hair, and said,

"My darling, are you feeling better?" His tanned face was lined with concern.

Charlie nodded, and was swept up by Johnny. "Here's my best girl," Johnny said, squeezing her gently, before setting

her on her feet.

Maria had prepared a delicious meal, which wasn't unusual, but she'd added several of Charlie's favorites.

Apple pie bread pudding, drizzled with sweet topping, and carrot coins with pork chops.

"Your favorite, huh, pequeno?" Johnny said, nudging her with an elbow. "Seems as though Maria's doin' some

spoilin'."

Maria, after setting down the platter of pork chops, gave Johnny a scolding look, and then smiled indulgently at

Charlie.

Charlie enjoyed her meal, and found that she also enjoyed having the extra attention she received, both then, and later,

at family time, in the library. Everyone just seemed so _concerned,_ and extra _solicitous_ towards her. Charlie went to sleep

that night, thinking that a headache, albeit a _pretend_ headache, could come in mighty handy.

**L**

Set on _not_ being late to school the next morning, Charlie didn't tarry, or stop to check on the baby rabbits. She focused on

her lessons, and thought it would be a better day. Until, that was, recess time came around again. And, again, the talk of

the Mother-Daughter lunch.

Charlie went to a part of the school yard where there were mostly the boys playing, so she wouldn't have to hear about the

Mother-Daughter thing. Rebecca came and sat beside her. True friend-like, Rebecca said, quietly, "You can sit with my Ma and

me at the picnic. I asked her and she said she'd be glad of it. She's gonna pack extra food and everything."

For a long moment Charlie couldn't speak.

"Thanks," she said.

"My Ma said she'd even make some cookies," Rebecca went on. And, then, because she was a kind girl, she reached

out to squeeze Charlie's hand. "Please don't feel badly about it, Charlie!"

"It's okay. It's nice of your mother to-include me," Charlie said.

It was at lunch time, while sitting outside, again with Rebecca and JoEtta Dawson, on the grassy lawn, that a familiar-looking black buggy

drove up to the school. Teresa got out, looking fresh and as pretty as always. She was wearing her favorite blue dress, the one

with all the white buttons up the front of it.

"Isn't that Teresa?" Rebecca asked.

"Uh huh," Charlie answered, as Teresa went past the kids who were gathered around the school yard, to go up the school

steps.

Teresa, looking around, spotted Charlie, and gave a breezy wave, before she went on into the school building.

"Did you know she was comin'?" Rebecca asked.

"No," Charlie said, watching the closed door of the school. "I wonder what it's about."

"Isn't she a friend of Miss Susan's?" JoEtta asked. "Maybe she just came to visit with her."

"Maybe so," Charlie said.

When ten to fifteen minutes had passed, Charlie packed up her lunch pail, and, brushing the crumbs from her dress, she

made the decision to go and see what Teresa had come about. She left her pail there, with Rebecca, and was nearly to the

school steps when Teresa came out, accompanied by Miss Susan.

"Hi, Charlie," Teresa said, in greeting.

"Hi," Charlie said, pausing at the bottom of the steps.

"Well, I'll talk to you soon," Miss Susan said, and smiled at Teresa.

"Yes. We'll plan on it," Teresa said.

When Miss Susan had gone inside, Teresa made her way down the steps to stand beside Charlie.

"It's a nice day to eat outside," Teresa said. "The sun feels so nice."

"Did you have a sewing circle meeting today?" Charlie asked, referring to the group that Teresa joined occasionally, and thinking that

would explain why Teresa might have been in town.

"No. Not today," Teresa said. She smiled at Charlie, and began to walk toward the buggy. "I'll see you later, at home,"

she called over her shoulder.

"Teresa, wait," Charlie said, and ran to catch up.

"How come you came to school?" she asked Teresa.

Teresa looked surprised, and brushed her hair from her eyes. "What?"

"Why are you here?" Charlie demanded.

"I came to talk to Susan," Teresa said.

"Talk about what?"

Now, more than surprised, Teresa looked shocked. "Charlie," she said, reprovingly.

Vaguely aware that she had crossed some sort of a line that she should not have, Charlie tried to backpedal.

"I was just wondering," she said.

"Well-" Teresa hesitated. "We do need to talk about a couple things. Maybe before supper, okay?"

Immediately suspicious, Charlie asked, "What things?"

Teresa gave her a level look, as Miss Susan came out to ring the bell, calling the kids back inside.

"It's time for you to go in," Teresa said, as children began to run past them. She smiled at Charlie, and patted her arm. "I'll see you

later."

And then, she added, "Don't worry," and went to get into the buggy, waving at Charlie and some of the other children as

she drove off.

**L**


	8. The Offer

Riding home, Charlie found her thoughts full. Approaching the spot of the baby rabbits, she told herself she would stop only

for a few moments. Just to check and see if the babies were still there, and surviving.

She was weaving her way thru the tall grasses, when she heard whistling. She paused to look, and saw that it was Monte Johnson,

walking along, whistling, with a fishing pole over one shoulder.

Charlie hadn't had any trouble at all from Monte since their final skirmish. His brother, John, on the other hand, persisted in being

a pain at times. Staring at Charlie intentionally to try to rattle her, or making snide comments occasionally. Usually, though, it

wasn't enough to do more than annoy Charlie. If Jason happened to be nearby, he would warn John off. Once, Monte had even

been the one telling John to 'shut his mouth'.

Mostly, though, Monte now left Charlie alone. Not being mean, or paying any attention to her at all. Which was fine with

Charlie. But, now, here he came, loping down the road, in her direction.

Charlie went on into the grassy area, coming to the place where the grass was shorter, flattened. Three babies were still

there, huddled together in a small, brown circle. Crouching down, Charlie was studying them, when Monte

called from the roadway. "What're ya doin'?"

Charlie didn't respond, and Monte came swishing thru the grass over to her.

"You shouldn't oughta bother 'em," Monte informed her.

"I _know_ that," Charlie said. as Monte crouched down beside her.

"Actually, though," Charlie said, "The mother rabbit won't reject them, even if a human touches them."

"How'd you know that?" Monte asked.

"I read it-Murdoch has a big book that explains about all things like that," Charlie said.

"Yeah?" Monte asked, looking interested. "About lots of critters, or just about rabbits?"

"No. About all sorts of animals." In sudden concern, Charlie raised her eyes to his face. "You're not gonna come back here and do

anything to them, are you?"

Monte's face showed his surprise. And then, disgust. "Course I'm not," he said, indignant. "I _like_ critters."

"Oh," Charlie said, She looked back at the rabbits, but looked out of the corner of her eye at him. Monte was hovering over

the nest, studying the babies, and Charlie, to her further surprise, saw a look of near-tenderness on his face.

"They look as though they're 'bout a week or so old to me," Monte said. "How long you known 'em to be here?"

"I found them a couple days ago," Charlie said. "There was four of them at first. I don't know what happened to that

other one."

"Probably the Ma pushed it out of the nest," Monte guessed. "Have ya ever seen her?"

"The mother? No," Charlie said. "I hope nothing's happened to her."

"Nah, ya can tell they're gettin' fed," Monte said. "She comes mostly at night to tend to 'em."

It would have irritated Charlie that Monte was so free with his beliefs, and opinions, except he really seemed to know

what he was talking about. And, too, especially, he wasn't being mean about it. Charlie could tell that he really did like

the rabbits.

"You check on 'em every day?" he asked me.

"Yeah. Well-I have been," Charlie said. That reminded her. She'd best be getting along. It wouldn't do to be late

getting home again.

She got to her feet. "I've gotta be going," she said, and turned to swish back thru the grasses.

Monte followed along. "Yeah. I'd best be gettin' to my fishing."

"Where are you fishing at?" Charlie asked, curious. She hadn't known there was a spot frequented for fishing nearby.

"It's my secret spot," Monte said, and Charlie could have sworn that there was a teasing glint in his eye.

"Well-good luck," Charlie said, and remounted Gurth, who'd been patiently waiting, ground-tied.

"The book you were talkin' about-the one about the animals? Is it just about rabbits and coons and such?" he asked.

"No," Charlie said, adjusting her feet to the stirrups. "It talks about lots of others. Even some that live real far away. Kangaroos and birds

that you can teach to talk, and-lots of others."

"A bird that can talk?" Monte asked, looking up at Charlie. "You funnin' with me?"

"No. It's true. They're called parrots," Charlie told him. "They're all sorts of colors."

"I'd sure like to read about that," Monte said, with a look of wonder on his tanned face. He stooped to pick up the fishing pole that

he'd left there, on the side of the roadway.

"I could maybe bring it to school," Charlie heard herself offering. "Sometime. If Murdoch said I could."

That Monte was plainly shocked by her offer was evident by the expression on his face. Charlie felt her face turn reddish at

the fact that he was so surprised by an act of kindness on her part.

"I'd sure like that," Monte said, his own face reddening a bit.

"I'll ask Murdoch," Charlie promised, and they said their goodbyes, with Monte disappearing into the woods.

**L**

Charlie put Gurth into a run, so as not to be any later than she already would be. Riding into the courtyard, she saw

Jelly, chasing his pig, and Teresa, hanging laundry. She went to unsaddle her horse, and then rubbed him down, turning him

out into the pasture. Walking towards the house, then, Teresa called to her.

"Charlie!"

Sighing a bit, Charlie walked over to the clothesline, and Teresa paused.

"You're late, aren't you?" Teresa asked.

"No," Charlie said, tartly. Curtly.

"Alright," Teresa said. "I just thought it was past the time you usually get here."

"Gahhh," Charlie said, announcing her irritation.

"What?" Teresa asked, perplexed.

"I'm _tired_ of being hawked!" Charlie said.

"Hawked? What's that?" Teresa asked.

"Watching me like a hawk!" Charlie said, her voice rising.

"I don't think that's what that means. And nobody's doing that to you," Teresa denied.

Charlie gave a humph of disbelief. Teresa reached down to pick up a wet sheet from the basket to hang on the line.

"I wanted to talk to you," Teresa said. "About the picnic on Thursday. The mother-daughter-"

"I know what you mean," Charlie said, interrupting Teresa. "What about it?"

"Well," Teresa said, "Susan seemed to think that you were a little upset about it."

The thought of being discussed that way made Charlie even more agitated.

"I'm not," Charlie denied.

"Charlie," Teresa said. "It's alright if you are. There wouldn't be anything wrong with feeling that way." She sounded kind, and

there was a softness to her eyes, too. "I know how I felt when my mother died, and she wasn't around to do all the things

that the other girl's mothers were doing."

Teresa went on talking, and Charlie kept her big brown eyes on Teresa's face. "My father tried his very best. He was a wonderful

father. And, then, when-when he died, and I came here, to live with Murdoch-well, Murdoch did his best to give me whatever I

needed. But, it was still hard sometimes, not having a woman to talk to about things."

Her agitation fading, Charlie asked, "What about Maria? Couldn't you talk to her?"

"When my father died, and I first came here, Maria wasn't around much. Maybe once a week or so, to cook up several

meals. Her children were younger then, so she didn't have as much time." Teresa picked up a towel to begin hanging it. "She

was always very kind to me, and she helped me sew up a couple of dresses-things like that. But, I guess I was sort of shy, too, so

mostly I just tried to find my own way in things."

"Oh," Charlie said, quietly. She set her lunch pail and books down on the ground, and reached down to take out a wet sheet from the

basket. She slung it over the line, and took a clothespin to hook it on one end. "Were you lonely sometimes?"

"Sometimes, I was," Teresa said. "I used to feel badly at school or at church, when things came up-like this mother-daughter

picnic at your school. Once, an older lady at church offered to be my 'stand-in'. You know, to be my motherly figure at a luncheon at church." She

paused. "Murdoch thought it was so nice that she would do that, but, do you know what I did?"

"What?" Charlie asked, entranced.

"I pretended to be sick," Teresa said. She widened her eyes, and said, "I told Murdoch that I had the most horrible

headache, and I took to my bed for the whole morning before the luncheon."

"So you wouldn't have to go?" Charlie asked.

"That's right. It was just too much for me-or at least I felt like it was-to have to go and sit with Mrs. Thomas, while all the other

girls were sitting beside their mothers."

"Did Murdoch believe you, that you were sick?" Charlie asked.

Teresa finished clothes pinning the last towel. "I thought he did, but I found out later that he really hadn't believed me. He told me

I should never, ever, pretend sickness to get out of something. He said that it made him lose respect for me." Teresa ducked under

the clothesline to come to Charlie's side. "That hurt me so much. Worse than if he'd slapped me."

"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Teresa surveyed Charlie intently. "I thought about offering to come to the school for your picnic," she said, slowly. "Sort of fill in. But, then, I

remembered how _I_ felt. So, I'm not going to do that. I have an idea about Thursday."

"What?" Charlie asked.

"I thought that you could have a day off from school. We could do some shopping, and then have some lunch at the hotel. And, then, we

could go thru some more of Burl's things in his trunks. Or anything else that sounds as though it would be fun."

"You mean-like play hooky?" Charlie asked, her eyes wide in wonder.

"Well, not hooky, exactly," Teresa said. "More like a _frivolous fun day._ Would you like to do that?"

Sounding hopeful, Charlie said, "Yes, but I don't know if Scott will let me."

"I'll talk to him," Teresa said. "After supper." She reached out to move Charlie's braid to her shoulder.

"Thank you," Charlie said, suddenly feeling very grateful to the older girl. It would be a relief to not be worried about

the picnic, not to mention that it would be _fun_ to do something so out of the ordinary as miss school frivolously.

In spontaneous feeling, Charlie gave Teresa a tight hug.

**L**


	9. Into the fray

Charlie wondered if Teresa was going to introduce the topic of their Thursday fun day at the supper table. Teresa did not. She shook her

head slightly at Charlie when they exchanged glances, in an indication for Charlie to be patient.

So, Charlie ate her supper, and afterwards, she began to help clear the table.

"Scott, can I talk to you?" Teresa asked.

"Sure. Right now?" Scott asked.

"Yes," Teresa said. So Teresa went off to the library with Scott, and Murdoch helped Charlie clear the dishes. It

was while they were stacking them in the kitchen that Murdoch said, "Let's do these dishes, shall we? No sense in leaving

them."

"Yes," Charlie said, in agreement. So, Murdoch put water on to heat, and they began to cover the food that was leftover.

While the water heated, Charlie told Murdoch about how she and Monte had talked, and how surprising it had been.

"I'm glad that he talked to you, and that you were able to be open to it," Murdoch said.

"Do you think the mother rabbit is coming to feed the babies? Like Monte said?" Charlie asked him.

"I'm sure that she is," Murdoch said, lifting the heavy kettle to pour hot water into the sink.

"I told Monte about all the animals in your book," Charlie said. She went to the doorway leading from the kitchen to the

dining room, and stood, listening, while Murdoch washed the dishes.

Walking back over to dry them, Charlie said, "Could I take the book to school?"

"I imagine that would be alright. As long as you take care."

"I will," Charlie promised. She put the dried plate into the cabinet, and went back over to the doorway, once again.

"It's difficult to hear a conversation from there to the library," Murdoch told her. Charlie met his eyes, and

felt her face get warm, as she walked back over to him.

"I'm just hoping that Teresa can convince Scott of something," Charlie said.

"Ah, I see," Murdoch said.

They were finishing the dish washing and drying, when Teresa appeared in the kitchen doorway, Scott behind her.

Immediately Charlie looked to Teresa, hopefully. Teresa gave Charlie a nod and a smile.

"Everything's set for Thursday," Teresa confirmed, going to pour a glass of lemonade.

Charlie laid her drying towel down, and smiled with gladness.

"It's alright, then?" Charlie asked, looking at Scott.

"It's alright this time," Scott said.

**L**

That evening, when they'd finished their nightly reading, and Scott was tucking the quilt up and around Charlie,

he said, "It's been bothering you-the picnic on Thursday at school?"

His tone was low, concerned, and when Charlie met his eyes, she saw a question in them.

"A little," Charlie admitted.

"You could have talked to me about it," Scott said, and at that, Charlie felt a prick of remorse.

"I was trying not to think about it," Charlie said, in excuse.

Scott nodded, and said no more, but Charlie was left with a feeling that something was not quite right.

**L**

Charlie took the heavy green book about animals to school the next day, in her school pouch. Riding near to

the spot of the baby rabbit's nest, she saw Monte there, standing in the knee deep grass.

She pulled Gurth to a stop, and called out a greeting to Monte.

"Are they alright?" she called.

"One's dead!" Monte hollered back.

Charlie scrambled down from Gurth in a rush, and hurried thru the grass to where Monte stood.

"Maybe it's not-" she was saying.

"I guess I ought to know if a critter is dead or not," Monte said.

Ignoring Monte's tone of indignant rebuttal, Charlie watched as he knelt down. One of the small bodies had been

pushed aside from the other two remaining. Watching, Charlie saw that it was, indeed, lifeless. Still.

"Awe, no," Charlie said, with a sigh, kneeling herself.

Monte scooped the small body into his hands, and stood up.

"What are you going to do?" Charlie asked.

"I'll bury it," Monte said.

Charlie watched at first, and then trailed along behind Monte as he moved to another spot, and knelt again, digging a small

hole in the dirt.

She found herself surprised at the gentleness with which Monte make a small makeshift grave for the dead rabbit, and then

covered it with dirt. He got to his feet, and they stood there together, not saying anything.

"I wonder what made it die," Charlie said, sadly.

"Nature has it's own ways," Monte said, in response, and for a moment Charlie was startled at how like Johnny that Monte

sounded just then. The statement was something that Johnny would have said.

Monte dusted his hands on his pants, and they walked back thru the grass to the roadway.

"So-you just came out to check on them?" Charlie asked him.

"Yep," Monte said.

Charlie picked up the reins. Into the momentary, awkward silence, she said, "I brought that book of Murdoch's. About the

animals."

"Maybe I can look at it at recess," Monte said. "I wanna read about those parrots."

Charlie was nodding, as they both heard the sounds of the school bell as it rang out.

"Oh, no," Charlie said. "There's the bell-"

"Yeah. We'd better get goin'," Monte said.

Charlie offered for Monte to ride on behind her, because it seemed the right thing to do. In the face of his unexpected kindness

about the rabbits, and all-

Monte swung up behind her on Gurth, and Charlie galloped the horse most of the way to the stable. There, she handed

Gurth off to the stable hand, Hank, feeling guilty at running the horse and not cooling him herself.

"Can you cool him down?" she asked Hank.

After that, she and Monte ran, reaching the school breathless, with the door closed tightly.

Standing at the foot of the steps, Charlie tried to catch her breath.

"This is horrible," she moaned.

Monte shrugged, seemingly unconcerned. "Bein' late isn't so much," he said.

"It's my second time this week," Charlie protested. "And, we're not just a _little bit_ late. We're really late."

When he still seemed not to grasp the seriousness of it, Charlie said, "I don't want anybody at home to find out."

"Aw, it's nothin' to worry about," Monte said.

"Won't you be in trouble, if Miss Susan tells your folks?" Charlie asked, feeling her stomach knot in dread.

"Likely a switchin', if my pa was to home, only he ain't right now."

Charlie blanched a bit at that. "A switching? For being late to school?" That, to her, seemed severe.

"Maybe. He's on a trip right now. So, I don't gotta worry too much. You afraid? Of-Murdoch, you call him?" Monte asked.

"It's Scott-and I'm not afraid of him," Charlie said. Thinking that Scott would likely find other ways besides a physical

correction to deal with her continued tardiness to school-she still had no desire to face those consequences. Not the least

of which would be the disappointment on his expression.

"Come on," Monte urged. He let Charlie pass in front of him at the door, and she felt a push in her back.

Inside the school room, all heads turned to gaze upon Charlie and Monte. Curious looks. In the case of Rebecca, a concerned

look. With John, it was an open-mouthed look of shock, at seeing his late-coming brother with Charlie. Miss Susan, meanwhile,

had an expression of, what was for her, sternness.

"Come in, and take your seats, both of you," the teacher said. "We've already begun our lessons."

Charlie felt embarrassed. She couldn't help it. She walked to her seat, sliding in beside Rebecca. Charlie forced herself

to focus on her lessons, bending her head over her books. She got a look at her hands, and saw that her fingers were

dirty. From helping Monte to bury the baby rabbit. As Miss Susan came walking down the school aisle, Charlie put her

hands in her lap, to hide them.

At the first recess time, the teacher asked Monte to keep his seat. She then said quietly to Charlie, "I'd like you to wait

just outside the door, Charlie. I'll speak to you next."

Charlie nodded, and made her escape. To just outside the school doors. Rebecca came to wait with her, and Charlie explained

what had happened that morning.

"Monte just started being nice?" Rebecca asked, incredulously.

"Uh huh," Charlie said, glumly, sitting on the top step. "And now, I'm in trouble."

"What are you gonna tell Miss Susan?" Rebecca asked, sitting down beside her.

"I guess I'll tell her the truth," Charlie said.

"Maybe she won't be too strict about it," Rebecca said, trying to make Charlie feel better.

"I hope not," Charlie said, fervently.

It seemed the longest time, and yet it seemed no time at all, when the door behind them swung open, and Monte

came out into the sunshine.

"She wants you to go in," Monte said.

"Is she really angry?" Charlie asked, in worry, but, before Monte could give any clues or information, John came

running up.

"Ma's gonna have your hide!" he crowed in glee to Monte.

"Shut up," Monte told his brother. To Charlie, in a low tone, he said, "I gotta take a note home about bein' late."

_A note!_

Charlie's stomach knotted, and it took Rebecca encouraging her to go thru those doors to get her inside.

**L**


	10. Johnny advises

Charlie had not dreaded something so much in a long while, as she did going into the school building to face her teacher. She liked Miss

Susan and didn't want to disappoint her. And, she did not want to be in trouble. At all.

The teacher was seated at her desk as Charlie came in, and she stood up, coming to sit at one of the student's desks.

"Come and sit down, Charlie," she said.

Charlie sat down at the desk opposite her.

"Tell me about this morning," Miss Susan said. Her tone was quiet and her expression kind, and Charlie tried to push

down her misgivings. She thought she must tell the truth of things, and only could hope that Monte had done the same.

So she told about the baby rabbits, and how they'd buried the one, and then she finished by saying, "I galloped

my horse after we heard the school bell-"

"I think that was a very fine thing to do, trying to help the rabbits," Miss Susan said, in response, and Charlie felt her worry lift.

"However," she continued, "When you, or anyone, comes into the school after lessons have begun, it interrupts the

flow of learning. And, other students suffer for it. It's not very considerate to others."

Charlie nodded, feeling embarrassed. "Yes, ma'm," she said.

"You've had a couple of tardy arrivals this week," the teacher went on. "Were those also due to checking on the

rabbits?"

Charlie nodded in response.

"Well, the rabbits sound enticing. Hard to resist. But, it's not something to do before school if it's going to cause you

to be late arriving. Agreed?" Miss Susan said.

"Yes, ma'm. It won't happen again," Charlie said.

"I hope that it doesn't." Miss Susan stood up, and went to her desk, retrieving a folded note. She held it out to

Charlie. "Give this to Scott this afternoon when you get home."

"I won't be late anymore," Charlie said, and added pleadingly, "Please don't make me take a note-"

"Charlie, I'm not saying that being tardy a few times is such a terrible thing. But-it's also not a _good_ thing. And, I want

you to stop and think next time," the teacher told her.

Miss Susan's expression was kind, but firm, as she continued to hold out the note to Charlie.

Reluctantly, Charlie took it, and when she was told to go on back outside for the remainder of the recess time, she tucked

the note into her school pouch.

At lunchtime she took out the heavy book of animals, and handed it off to Monte, who was sitting with a group of

the boys.

"Thanks," Monte said, wiping his hands on his pants to take it from her. "I'll give it back to ya after lunch."

"You can look at it at the next recess, too," Charlie offered. "There's a lot to look at."

John, annoying as ever, made the sound of kissing at Charlie. "I guess you're sweet on her now, ain't ya," he said

to his brother.

Monte turned and said something, very low, to John. Charlie couldn't hear, but whatever it had been was enough to shut

John up. He turned red in the face, and slunk off, kicking at the dust in the schoolyard.

Charlie went on to sit with Rebecca, and only picked at her lunch. Even Maria's oatmeal raisin cookies didn't taste

as good as they did normally.

"Do you think he'll be real angry?" Rebecca asked, quietly. There was no need to identify the _he_ of which she spoke. It was understood

that it was Scott.

"I'm not sure," Charlie admitted. "I mean-Scott's sort of _predictable_ about most things. But, sometimes, he surprises me and

doesn't say what I thought he would about something." She sighed. "I don't know."

"Maybe he won't say much," Rebecca encouraged. "He seems as though he's a _calm_ sort of a person."

"He is. Mostly."

"He don't ever holler at you," Rebecca reminded.

"No. He doesn't holler," Charlie agreed, still glumly.

"I wish my Pa didn't holler," Rebecca said. "It's awful scary when he gets fired up. Specially if it's somethin' that's a for-sure

punishing thing. Cause then-the whole time he's hollering, you know you've still got punishment coming."

"I'd hate that," Charlie said, her stomach clenching.

"You think he'll take away your day with Teresa tomorrow?" Rebecca asked.

Charlie's face fell at the thought. "Oh, no," she said, in remembrance. "I forgot about that."

"I'm sorry," Rebecca said, contritely. "I didn't mean to make you think of it-"

"It's okay," Charlie said. She offered her cookies to Rebecca. "But, I sure hope he doesn't do that."

L

At the end of the school day, Monte handed the book of animals back to Charlie.

"I read about the parrots," he said. "I was gonna read more, but I'm not very quick of a reader."

Surprised that he was being so candid, Charlie said, "You can keep it tonight, if you want. I don't think Murdoch will care."

"You'd trust me with it?" Monte asked, plainly shocked.

"You won't tear it up, or anything, I know that," Charlie said, handing it back again.

"Thanks," Monte said, tucking the book under one arm. He hesitated. "Think you'll get in Dutch at your house?"

"Probably," Charlie said, glumly.

"My Ma'll squawk about it when she reads over the note, but that'll likely be all," he said.

When Charlie was quiet, he said, "I hope it don't go too badly for ya."

Charlie regarded his freckled face with the crown of red hair around it. Monte was _okay._ He could be nice.

She could tell that he was sincere in his wish that she be spared punishment.

"Thanks," she said.

"See ya," he said.

"See you," Charlie echoed.

She rode straight home, only glancing off at the area of baby rabbits, and hoping the remaining two were faring well.

Once at the ranch, she tended to her horse, and put away her tack. A whistle from afar had her raising her head, and

Johnny waved at her from where he was, in the near pasture. It looked as though he was pounding fence posts.

Charlie went into the house, and straight up to her room to change her clothes. She sat on her bed for a few minutes,

thinking. Considering. The temptation to open the note to Scott was powerful. Charlie sighed. It wouldn't really

serve any point to try to read it. She knew, or at least she knew basically, what was in it. Opening it would only add to

her troubles, if Scott was able to tell that she'd done so.

Charlie turned the paper over and around in her hand, thinking of when might be the best time to give it to Scott. _Before_ supper,

or _after?_ In the library, _at family time?_ Or, much later, when he came up to read with her, _at bedtime?_

It was one of those things, Charlie decided, that could go any number of ways. It was a toss-up, at best.

Before supper-Scott was bound to be hot, and tired, and hungry; in the library, in front of the whole family-that

probably wasn't the best, it would be embarrassing to have it overheard, even if Johnny would likely stick up for her.

For the moment, Charlie tucked it under her pillow, and went downstairs.

Maria had her after-school snack on the table. An orange and a glass of milk.

Charlie drank the milk, and then took the orange on her way outdoors. She went to do her chores, gathering the eggs in

the basket that she always used. She took them inside, and then back out to the barn, to feed the cats. Again, she spotted

Johnny, out in the pasture to the west. She would walk out to where he was working. It was in the back of her mind that

she could talk to Johnny, possibly, about her situation. He was always comforting to talk to about things.

At the last moment, Charlie went back inside, and asked Maria for a thermos, and she lugged that

along with her. Johnny paused in his hammering of posts as Charlie made her way thru the grass.

"I brought you some cold lemonade," Charlie said, holding up the thermos in greeting.

"That's my girl," Johnny said, and when Charlie handed him the thermos, he tipped it up and drank it down. A long

swallow. "That hits the spot."

As he set the thermos on the ground, and began to pound another post, Charlie watched, and then held the post

steady for him. Johnny used the post hole diggers to widen the opening.

"How was school?" Johnny asked, as he worked.

"Monte's being nice to me now."

"That the Johnson kid? With the red hair?" he asked.

At Charlie's nod, Johnny said, "What brought about _that_ change?"

So, Charlie told him about the nest of baby rabbits, and how Monte had happened along to see her there. And, then,

how he'd buried the dead one.

"He was real nice about it," Charlie said. "Real gentle, and all. He said he likes animals. It was a different side to

him."

"Somebody who cares for animals can't be all bad," Johnny said.

"Yes," Charlie said, in agreement. "I'm gonna ask him sometime why he was so mean to Burl."

As Johnny took over from her, with the post, working it into the hole, Charlie said, "Johnny?"

"Huh?"

"When do you think the best time would be to talk to Scott about something?"

Johnny flicked her a glance. "Does there have to be a special time to talk to Scott now?" he asked, with humor.

"No," Charlie said. At Johnny's raised eyebrow, she added, "I meant talk about something that's not so good."

"Aw," Johnny said, in understanding. He finished the post he was working on, and paused to look at her. "You have somethin'

_not so good_ that you need to talk to Scott about, do you?"

Charlie nodded, and Johnny said, "Well, I guess that depends, then."

As he began to pick up the tools, Charlie scrambled to help. "I was thinking maybe after supper might be good."

"After supper has it's advantages," Johnny said, in agreement, as they began walking back towards the barn and other buildings. "He's

had a good supper, and he's relaxin'."

"Yes," Charlie said. "That's what I thought, too." At the barn, they put the tools away. Pausing at the doorway of the barn,

Charlie said, worriedly, "I'm afraid that Scott might say I can't go with Teresa tomorrow."

Johnny gave her an appraising look out of those vivid blue eyes. "Have you done somethin' wrong, pequeno?"

"Yes," Charlie admitted. "Wrong, but not _terrible wrong."_

Johnny made no attempt to hide his amusement at her statement. "Wrong, but not _terrible _wrong," he repeated. "Well-that should

make all the difference."

He was teasing, and Charlie knew it. She didn't mind his teasing, but right now she needed his help. Or his advice.

"I think I'll tell him after supper," she said. She looked up Johnny. "Could you say something, maybe? To help me out?"

"Well-not knowin' what it _is_ that you've done, I don't figure as I can promise that," Johnny said.

She could tell that he still found the conversation slightly amusing.

"I've been late to school two times this week," Charlie admitted. "Because I was with the rabbits. And then-this morning, one

was dead, like I said, and we had to bury it. So, today I was real late. And, I have a note for Scott about it. From Miss Susan."

"Late to school, huh?" he asked, looking as though he was considering.

"Uh huh. See? It's not so terrible. Even Miss Susan said it's not the worst thing."

Johnny made a 'hmmm' sort of response, and Charlie gave him a studied glance.

"You don't think it's so terrible, do you, Johnny?" she asked him.

Johnny bent, his hands on his knees, so that he was eye-level with Charlie.

"It's not what I think about it that's the important thing, pequeno. It's what Scott thinks about it that's important."

His amusement had diminished, and Charlie could tell that. He had a firmness to his tone now.

She nodded in response to what he'd said. "Yes. I know," she admitted.

He studied her seriously, still eye to eye. "You gonna keep it up, or gonna get to school on time?"

"Get to school on time," Charlie said.

"Hmm. Well, if ya promise that, then I'll speak up for ya, if necessary. If I can."

Charlie reached out to wrap her arms around his neck. "Thank you!" she said, gratefully.

When the hug was over, Johnny straightened to his full height again. "You're welcome. I don't reckon as Scott'll be too

severe with ya."

Hopefully, Charlie asked, "Do you reckon?" After all, Johnny was Scott's _brother._ He should be able to predict Scott's

reaction to things.

"Whoa, whoa," Johnny said, holding up a hand in caution to her. "I didn't intend that he'd have _nothin'_ to say to you. I'm sure he

will."

"I know," Charlie said, in resignation.

**L**


	11. Ties that bind

Charlie washed her hands in the kitchen, and then took plates and silverware to the dining room, and began setting

the table. All the while, she was thinking. Nibbling on her lower lip. She heard deep, male voices coming from the kitchen, and

raised her head from her task as Scott and Murdoch came into the room.

They'd been talking about cattle, the bull, specifically, but they both paused to look at Charlie.

"Hello, darling," Murdoch greeted her.

"Hullo," Charlie answered. She knew what was coming next. Scott was sure to greet her as he usually did, with the

question of 'how was school?'

To preempt that, Charlie said, "Hi, Scott."

"Hey, kiddo," he said.

She busied herself, again laying the silverware, and as she moved around the table, towards Murdoch, the older man

laid an affectionate hand on her shoulder.

"I let Monte borrow that book. He was still wanting to read some of it. Was that alright?" she asked, looking up at Murdoch.

"You shouldn't have done that without permission, Charlie," Scott said.

Charlie gave him a swift, anxious glance, just before Murdoch said, smoothly, "I'm sure the book will fare well enough, Scott." He

patted Charlie. "It's fine, sweetheart."

Charlie nodded, relieved. About that, at least. She finished setting the table, as the two men stood there, conversing. She could hear

Johnny in the kitchen, laughing to Maria. Teresa came sweeping into the room, going to kiss Murdoch on his cheek.

"How are you?" she asked him. "How was your day?"

"My day went well, thank you," Murdoch said, smiling at Teresa. "I assume yours was good?"

"It was-fabulous," Teresa said, enthusiastically.

"Fabulous, hmm?" Murdoch asked.

"Mmm huh," Teresa said. She smiled at Charlie. "Ready for our day tomorrow?"

Johnny had come into the dining room in time to hear Teresa's query. Charlie couldn't help her eyes from traveling upwards

to Johnny's face. Johnny gave only the merest of nods at Charlie, in an indication that Charlie would have to hope that

the fun day still occurred.

"Yes, I'm ready," Charlie said, in honesty. "I'm really excited about it." And, she was.

"That's good. We're going to have fun," Teresa said. She cast a look around the table that Charlie had nearly finished

setting.

"I'll get the water glasses," Teresa said, and went off towards the kitchen.

Conversations at the supper table went on around Charlie; from Johnny asking teasingly of Teresa why it was that her day had been

so fabulous, and all three Lancer men talking about a cattle auction due to happen soon.

Charlie kept quiet, watching Scott covertly. Trying to determine from observing him as to whether he was enjoying

his meal, and whether he was in a good mood.

She didn't realize she was lost in thought, until Johnny gave her a nudge in her ribs.

"Huh?" she asked, returning back to the present.

"We were talking about your time with Teresa tomorrow," Murdoch said, from his end of the table.

"Oh," Charlie said.

"I have a surprise for you, too," Teresa added.

"You do?" Charlie asked.

Teresa stood up, beginning to stack dishes. "I do," she said.

"It sounds like it will be a good time for both of you," Murdoch said.

As Murdoch stood up, beginning to help carry dishes to the kitchen, Charlie shot another glance towards Scott. He'd finished his

meal, as well, and was sitting back a bit, in his chair. Johnny got to his feet, gathering up his own plate and silverware,

and passed behind Charlie's chair, saying, "That was a good meal, huh, Scott?"

His tug on her braid with his free hand was his clue that now was when she should speak up and approach Scott.

"It surely was," Scott said, in agreement.

When it was just she and Scott, still in the dining room, and it looked as though Scott was preparing to stand, as well,

Charlie spoke in a rush, before he stood.

"I need to talk to you," she said, swiftly.

Scott sat back again in his chair. "Alright," he said, wondering at her seeming agitation.

Charlie licked her lips, facing him across the table.

When she was silent, Scott raised his eyebrows in question. "Charlie?" he prompted.

"I have something to show you," Charlie said.

"You do?"

Charlie nodded. "It's upstairs."

Scott was looking confused. And questioning.

"I'd better get it first," Charlie said, and scooted her chair away from the table, running to the stairs and up to her

bedroom.

She took the note from its hiding place, and went to the stairs again, and back to the dining room. Scott was still

sitting there, in his chair, obviously waiting. Charlie went to hand him the note. He took it from her, saying, "What's this?"

Charlie kept her eyes on him as she made her way back around the table again, to her own chair. "It's from Miss Susan," she

said. She slipped into her chair as Scott broke the seal on the note, and began reading it silently.

Charlie sat up very straight, and folded her hands in her lap. Scott laid the note on the table in front of him, and

gave Charlie the full benefit of his gaze.

"Why were you late?" he asked, quietly.

When Charlie had explained about finding the baby rabbits, and how she and Monte had stayed to bury the dead one,

she finished by saying, "I won't stop before school any more to check on them."

"No. You won't."

That was all he said. But, it was enough. Enough to make Charlie straighten her back even more, and nibble at her lower lip

in trepidation, her big brown eyes on his face.

Scott stood, then, and picked up the note, beckoning Charlie to follow him.

"Come with me," he said.

Charlie followed him to the library, where he went behind Murdoch's large desk, dipping a pen in the ink, before

scrawling something across the bottom of the paper.

He held the paper, then, letting it dry, before he refolded it, and handed it back to Charlie.

"Your teacher wanted it signed," he said.

"Oh," Charlie said, in a small voice.

Scott came from behind the desk and half-sat on the edge. "She says she's concerned you're going to make a habit of

arriving late."

"No," Charlie said, shaking her head. "I won't, Scott!"

For a long couple of moments he was quiet, and then he said, "It's disruptive, coming in like that." He hesitated, and then

added, "It shows lack of respect for her, too. As though you're saying that her time planning lessons wasn't very important."

Charlie felt her face flame, in embarrassment and remorse, as well.

"I'm sure the kid'll take it to heart-not do it any more," came a quiet voice.

Charlie hadn't known Johnny was standing there, leaning in the doorway. She gave him a swift glance, and then

looked back at Scott. "I hadn't thought of it like that," she admitted. "I think Miss Susan is a good teacher." She hesitated,

and said, "I'll apologize to her. For making it seem that way."

"I think that would be nice," Scott said. "To make an apology." He sounded as though he was pleased.

"No more being late to school," he said, then, his tone firm.

"I won't," Charlie said, and waited for what she thought would be forthcoming.

"If it happens again, Charlie, then I'll have to punish you," Scott said.

Charlie held her breath for a moment. He sounded stern-but then she realized what he'd said.

"I'll be on time," she promised.

"Alright," Scott said, standing up from his seat on the desk. "Put that note with your school books, so you can give it

to her when you go back on Friday."

_So, she was still to go with Teresa! _ And then, to Charlie's surprise, and delight, Scott passed by her and Johnny,

saying, "I'm going to see about a piece of that pie Maria made earlier. How about you?" he asked, giving his brother a poke

in the stomach.

"At least two pieces," Johnny said, in reply, laughing. When Scott had gone, Charlie was still feeling shocked.

No punishment? No lines to copy, or riding alone to school taken away? Charlie felt nearly giddy.

She gave Johnny a triumphant smile, and Johnny said, "You see there, pequeno? You didn't need me at all."

**L**

After breakfast, as she and Teresa were preparing to depart, Scott caught Charlie and said, "Since you're going to be

out and about today, I thought you might like your allowance a day early."

Charlie gave him the full benefit of her dimpled smile. "Thank you!"

Scott sorted thru his change and counted out Charlie's allotment. "There you go," he said.

"I won't spend it all on candy," Charlie said, feeling impish.

"That would be a good thing," Scott said, his eyes crinkling at the corners with humor.

"The buggy's ready to go," Murdoch said, coming in the front door.

Starting off the day at the mercantile, Teresa took her time browsing, and didn't try to hurry Charlie. There were two

new books, and Charlie debated about which she could buy.

Choosing _'Twenty Thousand Leagues Under the Sea', _ she showed the book to Teresa.

"I think this is something Scott would like, too," she said.

Paying for her own purchases, Teresa said in agreement, "I'm sure he will."

"He's probably read it already," Charlie said, and asked the clerk for a paper sack full of jellybeans.

"For Murdoch," she said, in explanation to Teresa.

They tucked their purchases into the back of the buggy, and then drove out to the cemetery. The girls spent some time

there, picking wildflowers to put on Burl's grave, and then pulling the weeds that had grown up around it.

"There's a lot of weeds," Charlie said.

"I guess the man who tends the cemetery hasn't been able to keep up with things," Teresa said.

As they two girls knelt there, Charlie began to enjoy the stillness.

"I think we should have come here after lunch at the hotel," Teresa said. "We're both going to have dirt on our

skirts from sitting on the ground."

Charlie shrugged, still not old enough to be bothered at the thought.

"It's nice here," Charlie said, looking about the cemetery.

"It is," Teresa agreed.

"Some of the kids think it's creepy," Charlie said.

"That's just silly," Teresa said.

After some time, Teresa said she wanted to visit her own father's grave site. Once there, they did the same. Plucked out

the weeds, and sat for a few minutes.

Feeling close to the older girl, Charlie asked, quietly, "Is it still hard sometimes? When you think about him?"

"Oh, of course," Teresa said. "I think about him a lot."

"What was he like?"

Teresa sat back a bit. "He was a quiet sort of man. He had immense patience. With me, in particular. He hardly ever

lost his temper."

"He sounds like Scott," Charlie concluded.

"He was a bit, like Scott," Teresa agreed.

"Was it scary at first?" Charlie asked. "I mean-Murdoch's not exactly like that-"

"No," Teresa said, smiling slightly. "He's not. I already knew him, though, and I'd been around him for quite a bit. So, I'd seen

him in all his moods. Of course, it was different once I was actually _living_ with him. Especially the first time he got angry

with me."

Charlie shivered at that thought. "I'd be real scared," she admitted.

"Well, it's not an experience that I wanted to repeat very often," Teresa said, with humor.

Charlie had heard the story of Teresa's arrival to live at Lancer often enough, and she knew the answer to the question,

but asked it, anyway. "But, you always knew that he cared for you, right? And he made sure you felt as though you

belonged at Lancer?"

"Oh, yes, I always knew that," Teresa verified. "And, he would remind me, whenever I was in a mood, that he wasn't just

doing his duty, or whatever. That he really _enjoyed_ having me around. That he _loved_ me."

"Did he tell you that? Outright?" Charlie asked. "That he loved you?"

"In the early time, he didn't tell me. But, he did later on. And, he says it now, at times, when we're talking

together," Teresa said. "Some men _won't _say it, you know. Or, they _can't._ The fact that Murdoch can, and will say it

makes him even more of a man."

"Scott says it, too," Charlie said. "Sometimes."

"Sometimes is enough," Teresa said, simply. She stood up, dusting off her skirt. "Ready for lunch at the hotel?" she asked.

When they were looking over the menu at the hotel restaurant, Charlie said, "Can I have two desserts?"

Teresa looked amused. "Good idea," she said. "I will, too."

So, after the fried chicken and baked potatoes, they each ordered two slices of pie. Charlie, cherry and blackberry; Teresa, apple and

pecan. Even with her appetite, Charlie couldn't finish her second piece.

"I'm stuffed," Charlie said.

"What shall we do now?" Teresa asked. "Should we go for a drive?"

Charlie agreed, and, after Teresa paid the check, they stepped outside into the bright sunshine. The sounds of

children's voices and laughter could be heard from the school yard. They were just climbing into the buggy when

someone called out to Teresa.

Seeing it was Cole Thompson, who was Teresa's latest beau, Charlie climbed into the buggy to wait while Teresa talked

to the young man. And, they talked for several minutes. It was hot, sitting there, but Charlie tried to be patient. She surveyed

the young couple, standing just to the side of the hotel, close together. She saw Cole reach down and take Teresa's hand in his.

She saw, too, the way that Cole brushed Teresa's hair from her face, as if she were something precious to him. Charlie

got a strange feeling. A nagging thought.

When Teresa came, and climbed up beside Charlie, she settled back in the seat, smoothing her skirts.

"You can drive if you want," she told Charlie. Charlie chose a back road, one that she didn't often get to go on.

"Are you going to keep seeing Cole?" Charlie asked.

Teresa was surprised by that. She smiled a little. "I'm sure, yes."

Her voice was so definite that Charlie wrinkled her forehead. "Are you going to marry him?" she asked bluntly.

Teresa laughed. "I don't know. Maybe."

Duly disconcerted now, Charlie said, "Why?"

"Everybody wants to get married at some point, Charlie. At least, most people do. To have your own home, and

fix it the way that you want to. To have a husband to care for-" Seeing Charlie's expression of dismay, Teresa

asked, "Do you not like Cole?"

"I like him alright," Charlie said. "He's nice enough. I just don't like the idea of you not being at Lancer."

"I'd still be around, silly," Teresa said.

"But, not every day, probably. Not at breakfast, or at nighttime."

"Oh, Charlie," Teresa said, sounding regretful.

"I want you to be happy and all," Charlie said, hastily. "It's just-I like things the way they are right now."

"It's not as though Cole and I are to the discussion of marriage, anyway," Teresa said.

"But, you said you might marry him," Charlie reminded her.

"I might. But, not anytime soon. And, even if I do get married, I'll still be around for you," Teresa assured.

They drove for the next couple of hours, and then took the buggy to the path that led to the creek at Lancer.

They tucked their skirts up, and shed their stockings and shoes, and went wading.

Later, lying on the creek bank, Charlie said, "I understand what you did for me today. I appreciate it, Teresa."

"You're welcome," the dark-haired girl said. "We have things in common, you and I."

"You mean-being orphans?" Charlie asked.

"Well, I guess that's right," Teresa said. "But, I meant both of us coming to Lancer, and having a second chance at a

family."

"That's right," Charlie agreed.

"I don't think of myself as an orphan, Charlie. And, I don't think that you should, either. Orphans are people who

have _nobody._ Who are all alone in the world, with no one to live with, or to be a family with," Teresa said.

"Or love them," Charlie added.

"Yes. Exactly. So, don't say that about yourself. Or even think it. Murdoch would be very hurt if he thought

either of us felt that way. It would crush him."

"Scott, too," Charlie said.

"Yes. Scott, too."

When the sun began to cool, and the girls set out for home, Teresa said, "Maybe we can convince the menfolks to do the

washing up after supper tonight, since it's still our 'frivolous fun day'."

Charlie giggled. "We should try," she said.

**L**


	12. Wrought up

Monte returned the book to Charlie the next morning, handing it off to her at the first recess.

"Did you finish reading what you wanted?" Charlie asked him.

"I finished about the parrots-it was real interestin'," Monte said.

"Did you read about the kangaroos?" she asked.

"Naw, I didn't have time to read more," Monte said, and Charlie thought she heard regret in his tone.

Charlie took the book inside, putting it in her school pouch, and then returned outside for the remainder of recess.

At lunch Rebecca said she and Jason planned to go fishing the next morning. Jason, who happened to be nearby,

overheard, and reminded his sister, "If we get our chores done."

"Can you come, too?" Rebecca asked Charlie.

"I'd like to," Charlie said. It seemed as though it had been a long time since she'd been fishing. Or, been able to spend time

with Rebecca and Jason outside of the school day.

"Okay. Meet us at the corner of the road, and we'll walk out to our grandpa's pond together," Rebecca told me. "About eight in the mornin'?"

"I'll ask tonight," Charlie said.

When school had been dismissed, Charlie set out for the stable to retrieve her horse, and found Monte walking just

ahead of her. He turned and saw her coming, and paused, there in the street.

"Stoppin' to see the rabbits today?" he asked Charlie.

"I can't-for long, anyway," Charlie said.

"Well, I'm gonna walk out there," Monte said.

"You can ride with me, if you want," Charlie offered, and then felt embarrassed. "I mean-I'm going right past there-"

"Sure. Okay," Monte said easily, seemingly not thinking overmuch of her offer.

So, Charlie scooted forward, once Gurth had been saddled, and Monte more or less hopped up behind her on the saddle.

Riding the short distance from town to the spot where the rabbits were, it was quiet, and Charlie felt the

silence was awkward.

With a bluntness that surprised not only Monte, but also herself, Charlie blurted out, "How come you hated Burl?"

"Burl," Monte said, as if puzzled. Then, he realized, and asked, "Ya mean that old man? The one who died?"

"Yes," Charlie said, tightly.

For a long moment, Monte didn't answer, and Charlie thought that he wasn't going to. She twisted in the saddle to

look at him.

"Well?" she demanded, feeling angry, just thinking about the boys throwing rocks at both Burl, and at her.

Monte's face flushed red. "I don't wanna talk about that."

Charlie glared at him a moment longer, and then turned to face forwards again.

"You were real cruel to him," Charlie said, tightly. She was sorry now that she'd let Monte ride with her. Just remembering, and

approaching Monte about it, and then for him to react like he had-well, she wished that she'd just let him walk.

"I stopped, ya know," Monte said, quietly, almost sullenly.

Seriously thinking about shoving Monte off the horse's back and letting him land on his backside in the roadway, Charlie

didn't answer.

"I didn't bother him anymore. Not after that time when ya were at his shack, and your uncle-or whatever he is, chased

me and John," Monte said.

Not bothering to address the '_uncle or whatever he is'_ comment, Charlie said, still looking ahead, "You hit him with a

rock. Right on the side of his head-"

"That was-" Monte began, and then stopped talking, mid-word.

Arriving at the spot near the rabbits by now, Charlie pulled Gurth to a halt, and immediately Monte slid off. He began

stalking thru the grass. Charlie sat where she was, atop of Gurth.

"That was _WHAT?"_ she called after him.

"Nothin'," Monte hurled over his shoulder.

Charlie debated, watching Monte as he made his way to the nest in the grass.

She slid down from Gurth, leaving his ground-tied, and swished thru the grass to where Monte was kneeling.

The two baby rabbits were still there, and curled together. Charlie crouched down, reaching out one finger to

touch one of them, just barely.

"They're fat and sassy," Monte said, sounding satisfied.

Instead of answering, Charlie studied him from the corner of her eye. "What were you saying?"

"It don't matter," he said.

"Was it John that shot the rock at Burl?" Charlie persisted.

Monte met her eye, only for a moment, and shrugged. "Yeah. But, I coulda stopped him."

"Why didn't you?" Charlie asked.

"I dunno."

"That's not a reason," Charlie informed him.

"We were just checkin' our traps up there, in the hills, and he started hollerin' at us-and John pelted him with a

rock. He didn't mean to hit him in the head like he did."

"You could have _killed_ him," Charlie said. "I mean-John could have."

"I didn't bother him no more after that. Specially after my dad heard about how you got pelted in the arm," Monte said.

"Was that John, too? Or did you do it?" Charlie demanded.

Monte's freckled face flamed. "I wouldn't do that to ya. I mean-I might have fired one in your direction, but I wouldn't have

actually hit ya."

There was a quiet, and finally, Charlie spoke into it. "Why wouldn't you have?"

Monte looked down, obviously embarrassed. "I just wouldn't. That's all."

"Oh," Charlie said, puzzled.

Monte stood up, rubbing his hands on his pants. "I gotta go."

"Me, too," Charlie said, standing as well.

"See ya," Monte said, and started off in the opposite direction.

"Bye," Charlie said.

Riding the rest of the distance to the ranch, Charlie thought over Monte. He was a puzzlement. That was for certain.

At the hacienda, Charlie dismounted, setting her school pouch and lunch pail on the ground. She began to unsaddle

Gurth, as Murdoch approached her from the side of the barn.

"How are you, darling?" he asked, letting his big hand rest on Gurth's neck.

"Good," Charlie said, as she loosened the cinch on the saddle. "I brought home the animal book."

"Was he finished?"

"No. He said he's a slow reader," Charlie said.

"Ah. Well, he can borrow it again, if he likes," Murdoch said.

As Charlie began brushing Gurth, Murdoch went to put the saddle away.

"Thank you," Charlie said, as the older man joined her again.

"You're welcome."

As she brushed, Charlie said, "Boys are a puzzlement."

At her statement, Murdoch raised an eyebrow, looking amused. "Is there a particular boy that you're speaking of?"

Charlie shrugged. "Mostly, Monte."

"The Johnson boy?"

"Yes," Charlie verified.

"Is he still minding his manners where you're concerned?" Murdoch asked.

Charlie nodded. "Mostly."

"Well, you let me know if he doesn't. Hear me?"

Charlie smiled up at him. "Yes. I will." Remembering, then, her purchase from the day before while she was

with Teresa, she said, "I have jellybeans to share with you."

"Do you, now?" Murdoch asked.

At Charlie's nod, Murdoch gave her a conspiratorial wink. "I don't see any harm in having a few before supper, do you?"

**L**

She and Murdoch were sitting outdoors, on the bench opposite where the swing was, passing the sack of candy

back and forth between them, when Scott appeared. They watched as he rode in, and put his tack away, and

turned his horse out. Even from the distance, Charlie could see that Scott was dressed up, or more dressed up than

his typical work clothes.

"Where's Scott been?" Charlie wondered aloud, as she took a black jellybean from the sack that Murdoch held.

"He had some things to tend to," Murdoch said. Which really, Charlie thought, wasn't an answer at all.

When Scott got closer, he walked over near them.

"How are you, son?" Murdoch asked him.

"I'm a bit tuckered," Scott said. "It's a mystery, how just sitting all day can make you tired."

"It can, indeed," Murdoch agreed, and Charlie wondered what they were talking about.

As Scott greeted her then, he said, "I see you two are indulging your sweet tooth."

"Guilty as charged," Murdoch said, and ate another jellybean.

Charlie giggled at his silliness, and said, "Would you like some?" to Scott.

"No. Thank you, kiddo. I had a large lunch."

"Where did you eat?" Charlie asked curiously.

"At one of the newer restaurants in Stockton," Scott said.

"The Clariton?" Murdoch asked, and when Scott nodded, Murdoch added, "I've heard that it's very good."

"It was."

Charlie chewed another jellybean. Remembering, she brought up the topic of the morning. She told him about the

fishing with Rebecca and Jason.

"And, they said to meet them at eight in the morning," she finished.

"I'm going up to change my shirt. Why don't you come up in a few minutes so we can talk," Scott suggested.

A few minutes later, Charlie went into the house, and went to change her own clothes, from school dress to overalls. Enjoying the

feel of the carpet on her bare feet, she padded across the hallway to Scott's bedroom. She knocked, and when he answered,

she went in. Scott was standing in the center of the room, buttoning up his work shirt.

Leaving the door partially ajar, Charlie went to his tall dresser, laying down what remained in the sack of jellybeans.

"There's three red ones for you, for later," she said.

"Thank you," he said.

"Uh huh," Charlie said, and went to sit on the edge of his bed. Bouncing up and down a couple of times, she said, "Is it alright

that I go tomorrow? With Rebecca and Jason?"

"Fishing will have to wait," Scott said.

Instantly disheartened, Charlie asked, "Why?"

"We need to go to Stockton tomorrow." Continuing to button his shirt, Scott said, "We have a meeting with the board at the

bank."

"Why do I have to go?" Charlie said, nearly in a whine. It sounded immensely boring, and bothersome to her.

"Because Beets, and the other men want to talk to you," he said.

"Mr. Beets always just talks to me when he comes here to visit," Charlie protested. "Why can't he do that?"

"He hasn't been able to come visit yet this month, remember?"

"Well-he could come here this weekend, then. Or next weekend," Charlie said.

Scott tucked his shirt in as he looked at her. "He's not able to do that. He's been very busy."

"That's not _my_ fault, though," Charlie said, in frustration. "Why do I have to give up my fun because he's too busy to

come here?"

Scott was surprised. That was obvious to Charlie. He raised his eyebrows all the way until Charlie thought they might disappear

completely.

"Charlie," he said, somewhere mid-way between cajoling, and a warning.

Charlie sat, looking sullenly at him.

"It's not that bad," Scott said, still trying to be patient. "You can fish next Saturday, maybe."

"I want to go tomorrow," she said, stubbornly.

"Well, tomorrow we have to go to Stockton," he reiterated.

"I wish I wasn't going to inherit _any_ money, _ever,"_ Charlie said. "I can't have any of it now-even if it was for a

really good purpose! All it does is ruin things _right now!"_

Scott stood, studying the heightened color of her face, and her pout.

He came over and sat down beside her on the bed, quiet for a few moments, and trying to think of what to

say to her.

"I don't think it's as rough of a situation as what you're making it seem," he said.

Charlie was silent, fuming. Scott, in instinct, put his arm around her shoulders to give her a hug. Meant to comfort, and calm

her. Instead of responding as was usual, and leaning into his side, Charlie remained stiff, and unyielding.

"I've got to put my shoes on," Charlie said, abruptly, standing, and heading to the door.

Nearly calling her back, Scott, instead, gave a slight of his head, and a sigh, and let her go.

**L**

There was no need to tell his father, or anyone else, of Charlie's disgruntlement. She was silent, not joining in

any conversation at the supper table, and picking at her meal. After Murdoch, and then Johnny, had aimed a couple questions her way, and

Charlie answered in briefness, Murdoch looked at Scott. In question.

More directly, Johnny gave her a poke in the ribs. "What's with you, pequeno?" he demanded.

"Not hungry," Charlie said, pushing her peas around on her plate.

"Peas are good for ya," Johnny said, teasing.

"They're nasty tasting," Charlie said. "I hate them."

Caught by surprise, Johnny blinked, and then, before he could speak, Murdoch spoke from his end of the table.

"We don't complain about our food that we're served, young lady," Murdoch said. His tone was crisp, and pointed.

Charlie shot him a glance. From across, and under the table, Charlie felt the nudge of Teresa's boot on her leg.

Teresa was giving Charlie a wide-eyed look, quite plainly saying without words that she wondered what Charlie was

up to.

"Finish your meal, Charlie," Scott said.

He didn't sound terribly upset, at least Charlie didn't think so. Firm, but not _upset._

Avoiding looking anywhere near Murdoch, Charlie finished her meat. And then her potatoes. When the others were finished and

getting to their feet, Charlie moved to do the same.

Scott paused, his hand on the back of Charlie's chair. "The peas, as well," he said.

Charlie looked up at him, and he went on, "All you've done is squash them. Eat them."

When he'd gone, Charlie was left alone in the dining room, with Teresa giving her a half-sympathetic, half-censoring look on her

way out.

Charlie felt her rebelliousness rising more as she sat there. Not less. She could hear the voices of the family as they

talked in the kitchen, and then went thru to the library. She could hear Johnny's laughter.

A sound at the doorway made her jump, startled. Teresa came to sit down just beside her at the table.

"Charlie, what's the _matter_?" she asked, pushing her dark hair back.

"I'm _mad,"_ Charlie said, stabbing at the stray peas on her plate.

"For gosh sakes, why?" Teresa asked.

Charlie huffed, and was silent.

"Because you can't go fishing? For _one day?_ Charlie, that's just ridiculous," Teresa said.

"I'm not ridiculous," Charlie denied, and couldn't help the flame of hurt that shot thru her.

"That's not what I meant," Teresa said, sounding regretful.

Charlie met her eyes, and saw such compassion there that tears sprung to her own.

"Come on. Just finish your supper, and then we can have some cake-" Teresa began.

"Teresa," came a deep voice at the doorway.

Both girls looked at Scott, and he said, "Can you let me and Charlie talk a minute?"

"Yes. Sure," Teresa said, and got up, heading out of the room.

Scott came over slowly, and sat down in the chair next to Charlie. The seat that Johnny usually occupied.

"I'm really not understanding all this, Charlie," he said.

"I just don't want to go to a meeting to talk about money that I care _nothing_ about," Charlie said, sullenly.

"Talking with Beets, and any of the other men at the bank isn't to talk about money, Charlie. It's to talk about how

you're doing, here with all of us. It's to report on your progress with things. School."

When Charlie looked down, with a sigh, and was silent, Scott went on, "You know this already. When Beets visits you,

he talks with you about regular things. Things that interest you. Right?"

Charlie shrugged. "I guess," she conceded, with less grace that she should have.

Scott felt his patience rapidly slipping. "If you're finished eating, then go and put your plate in the kitchen," he said, and

stood up abruptly, scraping his chair back on the floor. To Charlie's more than somewhat surprise, Scott headed towards the front

door, and Charlie heard the door close. And, he hadn't even bothered to tell her again to finish her squashed peas.

**L**


	13. Stockton

Charlie went to do that. Put her plate in the kitchen. Maria was finishing up, hanging the towel to dry, and preparing to go

to her own home. She took off her apron, folding it neatly, and giving Charlie a look of disapproval.

Charlie brushed her still-left peas into the bin, and went to the sink to wash the lone plate.

"Buenas noches," Maria said, quietly, going to the door.

"Goodnight, Maria," Charlie said, without looking at the older woman.

Charlie wandered to the library, hesitant. Johnny was standing near the desk, looking at some papers that Murdoch held, as he

sat at the desk. Teresa was sitting on the end of the sofa, working on some needlepoint.

"Come sit by me," Teresa invited, and Charlie went over to sit beside her.

Talk went on around her, but nothing that Charlie really joined in on. Time passed, and it was nearly eight, and still Scott

had not come in.

"Scott go out?" Johnny asked.

"He went walking, I think," Teresa said.

It seemed to Charlie that she felt Murdoch's eyes on her. She flicked her gaze up, and, _sure enough,_ Murdoch was looking

directly at her.

Feeling decidedly uncomfortable, Charlie felt like squirming.

"I'll go out-make sure Scott hasn't gotten himself lost, or somethin'," Johnny said, his tone light.

When he'd left the room, Murdoch spoke, saying, "Time for you to go up and prepare for bed."

The way he said it, though it wasn't rough, made Charlie feel more squirmy than she did already.

"Sleep well," Teresa told her, and Charlie stood up.

"Night," Charlie said, shortly. She went out of the library without saying a particular goodnight to Murdoch. And she stomped

going up the stairs, too.

**L**

In her bedroom, Charlie got into her nightgown, and washed her hands and face, muttering to herself about

how Scott must be going to be staying outside all night. Eventually, Charlie climbed up in her bed, and laid down, watching

the lamp light make shadows on the ceiling and walls. She began to fret then, and, when she heard footsteps outside

her door, and then a brief rap, Charlie felt a combination of relief and dread.

Relief that he'd come up to say goodnight to her, and dread that he was angry still.

She sat up, crossing her legs, as Scott entered. He had their most recent book, _Eight Cousins,_ tucked under one arm.

Charlie waited, as Scott came to sit down on the edge of the bed. She waited, thinking he was going to say something

to her, about what had happened at the supper table.

Only, he didn't. Not right then. Instead, he opened the book to where they'd left off, without his customary question

of '_Ready to read?'_ Just quietly, he began reading.

Charlie listened, but found she wasn't following the story as closely as she usually did. Scott wasn't acting like himself. He

didn't seem angry, at least not exactly, but Charlie couldn't help feeling uneasy.

When he'd finished the chapter, he marked the page, and closed the book, looking at Charlie.

"As soon as breakfast is finished, we'll leave for Stockton," Scott said, quietly.

Charlie nodded. "Alright," she said. She was resigned to the fact that they were going. There was no use to fuss about it

any more.

"Alright. Well, it's time for sleep," he said, and motioned with his hand for her to lie down. Obediently, Charlie scooted underneath

her quilt. Scott tucked it up around her, and reached over to turn the lamp down.

Thinking that he was going to leave, without talking to her any further at all, Charlie said, "Will we eat lunch out somewhere

while we're there?"

"We'll see how long the meeting lasts," Scott answered. "We'll probably get something to eat before we head home."

He gave the quilt another tuck-in around her legs, and Charlie couldn't quite make out his expression in the darkened room.

"Sleep well," Scott said, and gave her covered leg a pat, as he stood up.

Once at the doorway, he said, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight," Charlie said, feeling unsettled somehow. "Scott?"

"Hmm?" he asked, pausing.

"Will you leave the door open? Until I'm asleep?"

"Alright," he said, and added, again, "Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

**L**

When Charlie woke up the next morning, it was just before there was a rapping on her door.

"Charlie, time to get up," Teresa said, from the hallway.

Charlie answered, and got up to get dressed. She hesitated in front of her armoire, considering. What should she wear?

Usually, she would just pull out the first, or the simplest dress that she saw. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to wear

her overalls. Today, though, she didn't just grab. She knew that she hadn't been in anyone's _good books_ last night. Everyone had

been put out at her. Well, except maybe Johnny. Charlie thought that it might help a bit, smooth things over, if she was to appear, looking tidy, and wearing

a nicer dress than usual.

Yet, if she was go downstairs in a lacy, party dress, that would be too overdone. It would seem as odd behavior for her, which

it would indeed be. So, finally, Charlie took out one of her second-best dresses. Not an everyday one, yet not a Sunday best, either.

This one was blue, with white buttons, and a sash in the back.

At the entry to the dining room, Charlie saw that Maria was setting a large platter of eggs and sausages in the

center of the table. Teresa was pouring juice and coffee.

Maria said good morning, and bustled back towards the kitchen.

"You look very nice," Teresa told Charlie.

"Can you do my top buttons?" Charlie asked. "I can't reach."

"Of course," Teresa said, and stepped closer. She began fastening the hard-to-reach buttons, as the Lancer menfolk

began walking in.

Johnny grinned, and said, "You look pretty, pequeno."

"Thank you," Charlie said, feeling her face get sort of warm.

"You do, indeed," Murdoch agreed. He was smiling, too, and Charlie thought that he must not be irritated at her any longer.

Charlie was surprised at the relief that she felt. Thinking that. That Murdoch wasn't upset with her now. She filed the

thought away, to ponder over later, as to why that fact would make her so glad inside.

Scott, too, gave Charlie a brief smile in greeting, but said only, "Good morning."

Charlie answered, wishing she could study his face without being observed.

They left soon after breakfast, going in the buggy. Scott didn't offer to let her drive, and Charlie didn't ask.

There was silence as they began their way. It seemed for quite a long time to Charlie, though she knew that it

likely was not. A few side-long glances at Scott only made her feel more unsettled. His profile was serious, hard to

decipher. Charlie nibbled on her lower lip in thought.

"I hope Mr. Beets can come and visit us soon," Charlie said, finally. To make conversation.

"If he's not able to, then you'll have to make the best of going to see him instead," Scott said.

Charlie thought he sounded vaguely irritated. His tone seemed short to her. Terse.

She realized that Scott must think she was still fussing, about having to go to Stockton.

"I just meant that it would be nice to have him-at Lancer," Charlie said, feeling misunderstood.

When Scott's gaze settled on her, Charlie added, "I wasn't fussing."

He was still studying her, looking contemplative. Serious.

"That's what I meant. _Honest_, Scott," Charlie said, earnestly.

Scott gave a brief nod of acknowledgement. "Well, hopefully he'll be able to visit again sometime," he said. "I know he really enjoys it,

when he does get to come."

"Yes," Charlie said. There were a few more minutes of quiet.

Finally, Charlie couldn't bear it. She gazed front, at the rear of Bartholomew, as he pulled the buggy.

"I'm sorry I fussed about coming today," she said, very softly.

She felt Scott's eyes on her, and turned to meet them with her own.

"I appreciate you saying that," he said.

Charlie waited, but he said nothing more. She couldn't help feeling puzzled. She almost wished he would just

lecture her about how she'd behaved, and get it over with.

**L**

Once they arrived in Stockton, the sidewalks were swarming with people, intent on their Saturday shopping.

Scott had to stop the buggy twice for the amount of people who wanted to cross the street.

"Busy," Scott said, as he waved a woman and a small red-headed boy across.

"Yes," Charlie said, in agreement, thinking that the little boy looked a bit like Monte. When he was younger, of course.

When they were in front of the bank, Scott found a spot for the buggy, squeezed between two wagons. He seemed about to

get out, but then he paused, and turned to look at Charlie.

"Regardless of your reluctance about having to come today, I expect you to behave. Use your manners. Understood?"

He sounded stern, and for a moment Charlie blinked at him, startled. Wondering why he'd waited until just now to say that

to her.

"Understood," she said, feeling her face get hot.

Scott got out, then, and held out a hand to Charlie. She took it, and hopped down. He went to tie Bartholomew, and then, at

the door of the bank, he ushered Charlie in.

**L**

They didn't have to wait long to see Mr. Beets. He came bustling out of his office as they came in, smiling in

greeting.

"Scott," he said, extending a hand to shake. "Good to see you."

"Good to see you, too," Scott said, as they shook hands.

"And Charlotte," Mr. Beets said, turning to Charlie. "You're a cheery sight today in that blue dress."

"Hullo, Mr. Beets," Charlie said.

"How is everyone at the ranch?" Beets continued.

"Everybody's doing well," Scott said.

"Good. Come into my office, while we wait for the others to arrive," Beets said.

Sitting in an uncomfortable chair in the office, Charlie was quiet, listening to Scott and Beets talk about things. Questions

that Mr. Beets asked about the ranch, and work going on there. How Murdoch was.

After a few minutes, three of the other board members were there, standing at the edge of Mr. Beet's office. Charlie got two of them

mixed up. She could never remember which one was Mr. Meek, and which one was Mr. Harvey. The third man, thin and balding, that was

Mr. Melton. In her head, Charlie always thought of him as _Mr. Mellie._ He was the one who always seemed as though he was disapproving

of her. There was another gentleman this time. A very young man, who held papers, and seemed very interested in the goings-on.

Mr. Beets said, "This is young Cutburth. He's just beginning work here at the bank, and if you don't mind, Scott, he will sit in."

Charlie wondered why that was, that another person would attend the meeting. Scott gave her a quick glance, and Charlie could tell

it was to see if she had an objection. She lifted her shoulders slightly, to signify that she didn't mind overly much.

"It's fine," Scott said.

Scott stood up, shaking hands with the four men. Charlie stood up, as well, saying hello when she was greeted.

At first, they all went as a larger group to another room, with a long table, where there were more chairs.

As was common, the men asked Charlie general questions. Questions that she'd been asked before, many times. Since long

before, when she'd lived with Katherine, all those years. Then, too, Charlie had always come under duress, and been cautioned

by Katherine to _not embarrass her. _ Charlie felt slightly bad, now, for her behavior at those times. She'd huffed and swung her feet,

and answered as shortly as she could. She'd only come and answered at all because it was just easier, otherwise Katherine would

have pitched a grand fit, and screamed at her, and Charlie hadn't wanted to hear it. It had been best to just go with the flow of things, then.

_How was school going?_ _Was she progressing in her studies? Continuing to adjust to the Lancer home and expectations?_

Same questions as usual.

Charlie sat up, on her edge of her chair, with her hands folded, and answered politely, '_Yes, she was progressing in her schoolwork. _

_Yes, she felt as though she was adjusting to living at Lancer.' _ Same answers as usual, as well.

After that, Charlie went to sit out in the lobby, while Scott talked with the group of men, without her presence. Then the men exited

the office, leaving Scott and Beets alone. The younger man, _Jeremy,_ was coming thru the lobby, and he paused beside the chair

where Charlie was sitting.

"Hello," he said.

"Hello."

Instead of moving on past her, the young man stood still. "I was glad to meet you today," he said.

He sounded friendly, and Charlie was startled. Why would he be glad to meet _her?_

"Why?" she asked, without thinking first. She realized immediately that it sounded rude.

"I've heard such a lot about you," he said.

"About _me?"_ Charlie asked, even more startled.

"Of course."

"Why would you hear about me?"

"Charlotte Bays, and her legacy of gold," the young man stated. "You're well known around the bank. Around Stockton, as well, I

imagine."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead. "I'm not well known-not anywhere but with the bank board," she protested.

"I doubt that. You're going to be one of the wealthiest females in this part of the country. There's notariety connected with that. No

question about it."

Charlie felt half-embarrassed by his enthusiasm.

"It's boring sitting here, I'll imagine," he said, then. "You can come along to my office and have a cup of tea, if you like, until they're

finished with their meeting."

Hesitant, Charlie said, "I don't know if I should, Mr. Cutburth-"

"Call me Jeremy. And, I won't bite. I promise," he said, with a smile. It seemed like a nice smile to Charlie.

"You have your own office?" Charlie asked, surprised that such a young man, only just starting at the bank, would have such.

"Surely. I share it with another gentleman, but it's a fine space."

Charlie cast a glance towards Beet's closed door. She was curious-to talk to this young man a bit further. He'd peaked her

curiousity, talking about how she might be well known, and all. And, after all, it was bound to be more interesting than just sitting here.

"I'll go tell Scott," Charlie said, and went to the closed door, knocking softly. After a moment, the door opened, and Mr. Beets

stood there. Charlie could look into the room, and see Scott, sitting on a settee, his foot crossed and resting on his opposite knee.

"We're not quite finished talking yet, Charlotte," Mr. Beets said.

"That's alright." Charlie looked at Scott. "Could I go and have tea with Jeremy?"

"Who's Jeremy?" Scott asked, looking startled.

"That's young Cutburth," Beets supplied.

"No, you're not leaving the bank," Scott said, looking not only startled, but disapproving.

"I'm not-the tea's in his office," Charlie said.

Scott was speechless for the moment, and Mr. Beets said, "I'm sure it's fine, Scott. It's just down the hall."

Charlie looked at Scott, and he gave a brief nod.

So, Charlie went to the small office, ushered along by Mr. Cutburth. Jeremy.

**L**


	14. Thoughts flutter

Once in the office that Jeremy led her to, Charlie looked around, curiously. This room was a good bit smaller than Mr. Beet's

spacious office. There were two desks, and bookshelves, and a small corner stove.

It was nearly oppressively warm in the room. A man wearing spectacles sat at the other desk. He looked up only

long enough to nod at them, and then said, "I'm off to the post office," and left the room.

Jeremy went to the stove, and touched the tea kettle set on the top with the tip of his fingers.

"The water is still hot enough for tea," he said, and set about taking two cups and preparing tea.

"How many lumps?" he asked Charlie, indicating the sugar.

"Three," Charlie said, knowing that at home she would not be allowed three cubes of sugar.

"You like your tea sweet?" the young man asked, as he dropped the cubes into one of the cups.

"Sometimes," Charlie said.

"Sit down," he said, handing her a cup, with a spoon.

Charlie took a seat in an extra chair that was against one of the windows, looking around at the paintings on

the walls. They were more of the abstract sort, like what Katherine had favored in her home decorating. With shapes and

colors that meant seemingly nothing. The paintings in Murdoch's library at Lancer were immensely more

interesting since they were of landscapes and animals.

"You like my paintings?" he asked, noticing her observance.

"I prefer others," she said, in honesty. "Not those abstract sort."

"You know about abstract art?" he asked, sounding somewhat surprised.

"A little."

"I shouldn't be surprised," Jeremy said. "You lived with your aunt, isn't that right?"

When Charlie nodded, he went on, "I'm sure you were exposed to art while you resided with her. Went to art shows

and museums and all of that?"

In truth, Charlie hadn't gone to many museums with Katherine. At least not in the last couple of years. Charlie had

resisted, and protested, and even, at times, tantrumed because she did not want to walk around a museum with

her aunt. She found the paintings boring. At least those sort of paintings. So Katherine has usually given in, and left Charlie

to her own devices.

"Not too much," she said, in answer.

For the next five minutes or so, Jeremy asked Charlie what sort of art did interest her. She told him about

Murdoch's paintings, and the fact that he'd done a couple of them himself.

"He's a talented painter?" Jeremy asked, leaning back in his chair a bit.

"He's very talented," Charlie said, feeling proud. "He can draw really well, too."

"You like living there? With the Lancers?"

"Yes."

"They own much property, don't they?" he asked.

"It's a ranch. It's large," Charlie said.

"You must miss being in the city, though, at times?" Jeremy asked.

"No," Charlie said, immediate, and Jeremy looked faintly surprised at her quick response.

"I like the country," she added, not wanting to add all the reasons why she did _not_ miss the city of Stockton.

"Well, that's fine. When you're of age, you'll likely live here, though, or perhaps another city."

"Why would I have to?" Charlie asked, startled.

"You'll have a lot of things to see to. It would just be more convenient for you to live in the city."

At the abashed look on her face, Jeremy smiled and said, "Of course it will be up to you. You'll no doubt have

carriages and fast horses at your disposal."

"You'll be very important," he said. "There will be many people who come to you, requesting favors, or donations."

"I won't know what to do," Charlie said, and then thought that she should not have said it. After all, she didn't really

know Jeremy at all.

"You'll have guidance. The board here at the bank," he said. "Hopefully, I'll still be here when you're in need of

advice. How old are you?"

"Eleven," Charlie said.

"Well, there's a good long time yet. Ten years if they refuse access to you until twenty-one. Sometimes you can

receive a portion before your age of majority. Has Mr. Beets or your guardian talked to you about that?"

"No," Charlie said, intrigued by that information. Mr. Beets had never once suggested such a thing. Nor had Scott. And, even

Murdoch had suggested that twenty-one would be when she received her inheritance. She remembered that she'd even asked

Murdoch once if she would be able to have access before then, and he had replied that generally that was not the way of it.

"Well, it's only a possibility, you understand," he said, sipping at his tea.

"How old would I have to be?" Charlie asked. "Before I could get some of it?"

"That would depend, of course, but I've heard of one other situation where the young man received a small portion at

sixteen," he said.

"Sixteen?" Charlie said, softly, nearly to herself.

"Of course that was different, too, from your particular situation in some ways," Jeremy said. "So, you can't judge your

own by that totally. And, too, the board will have major say in it, as would your guardian at that time-"

The last five words caught at Charlie's attention, and made her instantly alarmed. On point.

_Her guardian at that time?_

"My guardian will be Scott, still," Charlie said, sitting up straighter in her chair, clenching her hands around the cup.

Jeremy nodded. "I didn't know-what the arrangement with the Lancers-with Scott-was for you."

"It will be Scott," Charlie said, trying to sound firm.

"Of course." He reached out to take Charlie's empty cup from her. "I have a meeting soon."

"Alright," Charlie said, standing immediately.

"I've enjoyed talking with you, Charlotte. Perhaps we can have another visit soon. When you come back next

month?" he asked.

Charlie nodded briefly. She'd enjoyed talking with Jeremy. At first. At first, he'd been entertaining, and she'd felt

grownup by the way he conversed with her. But, then, he'd said that part about her guardian of the future. And, now,

her thoughts were as jumpy as fleas on a dog. She wanted to ask Jeremy what he'd meant by the remark. She chided

herself. Likely he hadn't meant anything in particular.

To make herself feel more assured, as they began to walk back to the bank lobby, Charlie said, "The Lancers are

like family to me."

"That's very good," he said. "I myself was orphaned at the age of eight. I had several homes until I was grown, but

none were legal guardians."

"Scott's not just my guardian, though," Charlie said. "I mean-they care about me."

"I'm sure they do," he said, and smiled again at her. He left her with a cheery, "Hope to see you soon."

Charlie took the same chair that she'd been sitting in earlier. Only a few minutes had gone by when Mr. Beets and

Scott came out of Mr. Beet's office.

Pausing beside her chair, Mr. Beets smiled at her. "Did you and Jeremy have your tea?" he asked, kindly.

"Yes."

"Well, what are the plans you two have now?" Mr. Beets asked, of both her and Scott.

Charlie was quiet, and Scott said, "We'll probably have some lunch before we head for home."

"Fine, fine," Mr. Beets said.

"You're welcome to join us," Scott offered.

"I'd like to very much, but I have another meeting in just a few minutes. I'll definitely take you up on the offer

another time," Beets said. "I hope to make it to Lancer in the next couple of weeks to visit."

"We'll look forward to that," Scott said.

Mr. Beets turned to Charlie. "I understand you had to forego a fishing excursion with your friends to be able to come today."

Charlie felt embarrassed, and flicked a glance at Scott, and then said, "It's alright."

"Well, I know it surely wasn't as much fun as fishing would been," Beets said, smiling. "I appreciate it."

Charlie bobbed her head again.

Mr. Beets walked then outside, onto the sunny sidewalk. The streets were still bustling with people and activity.

"Take care, and I'll see you both soon," Beets said.

Scott said goodbye and Charlie uttered her own subdued 'goodbye'.

Standing beside the buggy, Scott looked down at Charlie, and asked, "Where would you like to go eat?"

Charlie lifted her shoulders slightly. "I don't mind where at."

"Well," Scott said, looking down the street. "There's a nice cafe within walking distance. I don't think we've ever

gone there together. Do you want to try it?"

Charlie nodded, in acceptance. As they set out walking, the sidewalk seemed to become more crowded. Two women,

bustling out of a mercantile, and carrying packages, bumped into Charlie, which in turn caused her to bump into

Scott.

"So sorry," said one of the women, as they walked on.

Scott caught Charlie up, his hands on her side. "Alright?" he asked.

Charlie nodded, and they walked on.

Once they were seated in the restaurant, and had their orders taken, Charlie looked around the nearly-full cafe.

They'd managed to get the next to last vacant table. It was so noisy that they didn't talk much. And, though the

food was filling, and delicious, Charlie found herself not so ravenous as usual.

She left some of her potatoes and most of her beans. "I'm full, Scott," she said, hoping he wasn't going to

insist that she clean her plate.

Scott eyed her plate and then nodded briefly. "I'll go pay," he said.

Charlie waited at the door as he did that, and then they walked back to the buggy.

Once traveling the busy streets, urging the horse on, there were kids running across the street, willy-nilly, dodging the buggies and

wagons, whooping and hollering. Three of them, wearing raggedy clothes and hats that covered their faces. Right there in

plain view, one of them snatched an apple from the cart outside one of the stores, and then purposefully pulled the cart

over, spilling apples all across the sidewalk and into the street. Laughing, the kids disappeared around the corner and down an alley.

Charlie looked swiftly to her left at Scott. His profile was set. Serious appearing. She couldn't tell what he was thinking.

Probably he was remembering that less than nine months ago that could have been her. Here on the streets of Stockton,

running rampant and wild.

"I never did that," Charlie said, before she thought it out. Her tone, when she heard it, was defensive.

Scott turned his eyes to her. "Never did what?" he asked.

"Turn something over, to spill it, just for the fun in it."

"It's spiteful," he said, looking back to Bartholomew.

"Well, I never did it," Charlie said, again.

"I'm glad that you didn't," Scott said, quietly.

They were out of the city, and on the less populated road when Scott spoke again. "Did anything that was said today

have to do with the fact that you didn't want your lunch?"

Surprised, Charlie looked at him, struck _again_ by the way that he could read things about her.

Then, she gathered herself, and said, "Jeremy was nice to me. He fixed tea."

"Alright. I just want to make sure."

A few more miles of quiet, and Charlie spoke out. "He says I'm going to be very important when I'm older."

That surprised Scott. She could tell. "He said that?" Scott asked, to clarify.

"Yes. He said people will be asking me for things. Donations and loans, and all of that."

Scott looked less than pleased, yet Charlie couldn't tell just what he was thinking.

"He says that sometimes in cases like mine, a person can get some of the money before they turn twenty-one, if they want," Charlie talked on.

"That's not likely," Scott said.

Charlie wasn't sure whether he meant it wasn't likely that she would receive money early, or that she would request such.

"He says it's possible. That if it was agreed upon, there wouldn't be a problem," she said.

Scott scrutinized her, looking very serious. "He said that? That there would be no problem with it?"

"Well-" Charlie paused, and considered. "Maybe not exactly like that. But, he said that it could happen. At sixteen, even."

"That's not going to happen in your situation," Scott said.

His tone was definite, and Charlie looked up at him. "Why not?" she asked.

"For many reasons. For one, it won't be necessary. You'll have all your needs met without taking from your trust fund."

"What if it wasn't for _needs?_ What if it was for something special?" Charlie asked.

"Such as?"

"I don't know-" Charlie waved her hand expansively. "You know-like I wanted to buy Burl a house before. Something like

that. Or maybe more horses. Or my own buggy. Lots of things."

"Thinking of others is very kind. And, when you're of age, if you want to do certain things for people or organizations, then

that would be something that was discussed with the board. But, not before then."

"You mean twenty-one," Charlie said.

"Right."

"I think that's wrong-and it makes no sense. It's like saying that I'll have no sense at all until the day I turn twenty-one, and

then, suddenly, I'll have all the sense in the world," Charlie complained.

"Well, it may seem like that. But, that's the way it's set up," he said.

"But, I _could_ get some of it early. If it was for a good reason," she said.

"I don't see the men on the board agreeing to that. And, I can't see myself agreeing to it, either," Scott said.

Charlie subsided, frustrated, and after a few moments, Scott said, "It's very well thought out, by people who know their

job. It's not a plan that was slapped together in a hurry. It's set up to protect you, and protect your future."

"It didn't protect me so well when I lived with Katherine," Charlie muttered.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"She took money for having me, and nobody blinked about that. What would be the difference if I had the same amount

now as she had all along?"

"There's no need of it, Charlie," Scott said, and Charlie heard the crumbling of his patience in the tone. "There's nothing

now that you would need that money for. Nor likely at sixteen."

Charlie fell silent, wishing they were home, so she could escape to the sanctuary of the barn, or go riding on Gurth, flying

thru the pastures on his back.

"Can I go riding when we get home?" she asked, abruptly.

"You've got your chores," he reminded her.

"After that," Charlie said, impatiently.

"I think Maria needed your help in the garden after that."

Charlie blew upwards at her bangs, in irritation, and Scott gave her a somewhat startled look.

"Charlie," he said, reprovingly.

"I want to go riding," Charlie insisted, sounding whiny. She knew she sounded that way, but she couldn't

seem to help it.

"I know things haven't been going your way lately," Scott said. "But, you're near to crossing the line from petulant to

disrespectful."

Charlie gave him a surprised glance. "I don't mean to be," she said.

"Well, now that you know, you need to start reining it in," he said, sounding downright stern. _Angry, even._

Charlie sat back against the buggy seat, and nibbled on her thumbnail, quiet the rest of the ride home.

**L**


	15. Out of sorts

Once back at Lancer, Scott began to unhitch the buggy, preparing to turn Bartholomew out. Charlie had hopped down

from the buggy, and, without saying anything to him, went inside the house. She chose the front door purposefully, wanting

to avoid Maria. Part of Charlie felt bad for wanting to do that. Maria was so kind-but still, Charlie wanted to put off

any talking to anyone. Teresa was likely in town, at her sewing circle, as she usually was, on Saturdays.

Charlie slipped up the wide staircase, to her bedroom, where she changed her clothes swiftly, and then back down

again, carrying her boots.

Outside once again, she sat down on the bench at the front. She was in the process of pulling on her boots

when the front door opened, and Murdoch came out. Where she was sitting, she saw Murdoch before he saw her, and

for the moment Charlie was still, not speaking.

When Murdoch turned and saw her there, he said, surprised, "You're home," with a smile.

"Yes. Just now."

"How was your trip?"

"There were lots of folks out," Charlie settled for saying.

Murdoch took a few steps over closer to the bench. "Well-that's usual on a Saturday."

"How was Beets?" he asked, then.

"He seemed fine. He said he hopes to visit soon."

"That's good," Murdoch said. "I'm glad things went well."

Bent over, to do up her boots, Charlie muttered, "Same stupid questions. I could answer them in my _sleep_." Finishing with the

laces on her second boot, Charlie got to her feet. "See you later."

She'd began to walk towards the chicken coop, when Murdoch spoke. "Charlie."

Charlie paused and turned.

"Come here," Murdoch said, crooking a finger.

"I've got chores," Charlie said, in mild protest. She wasn't sure just _why,_ but she didn't feel like talking to anyone. Least

of all, she did _not_ want anything resembling a talking-to.

"The chores will wait a few minutes." He went to sit on the bench that she'd only just vacated. "Come here."

Charlie sighed, loud enough to be heard, and walked back over to stand at the end of the bench, but not sitting down.

"I haven't done anything wrong, Murdoch," she said, in protest.

"Have I said that you did?" he asked, raising a bushy brow.

"No. But, you _seem_ as though you _think_ it," Charlie said.

"Sit down here, young lady," he said.

_Young lady?_

Charlie sat, working her hands together, twisting to look at him.

"First of all," Murdoch began, "When I asked you to come, why the hesitation to obey?"

His eyes were so intense that Charlie felt her stomach do a loop-da-loop. His voice was not sharp, but it still

made Charlie quiver.

"I'm sorry," she said, caving immediately.

"Thank you. I'd still like to know why."

"I didn't want you to scold me," Charlie admitted.

"You've just told me that you haven't done anything that requires scolding," Murdoch reminded her. And then, she

saw his eyes twinkling.

It was like a sunrise, seeing his eyes that way, and knowing that he wasn't truly cross with her.

In a sudden burst of emotion, Charlie laid her cheek on the center of his vast chest, putting one of her hands

in one of his large ones.

When he'd wrapped a burly arm around her shoulders, Charlie sighed, without realizing that she'd done so.

"What's troubling you, child?" he asked, quietly.

"I guess I'm just out of sorts," Charlie said.

Murdoch gave her a squeeze. Charlie was feeling warm and much more pleasant, and then his deep voice

spoke close to her ear. "Everyone gets out of sorts at times. There's nothing wrong in that. Though you still need to

obey. And be respectful."

That struck too close to what Scott had told her, just a short time ago.

"Yes, Murdoch," she said, lifting her head from his chest.

"Good," he said.

**L**

After her talk with Murdoch, Charlie went off to do her outside chores. She fed the chickens, and refilled their water bowls. She

gathered the eggs and went to set the full wire basket at the back door instead of taking it inside to Maria. She went to check on the

pups. Only Burl was there, lying at the side of the barn in the sunshine. Where was Lettie?

Charlie looked around nearby, but the puppy wasn't in sight. After that she walked out behind all the barns and

buildings, calling for the dog.

She was nearly to the pond when she realized how far she'd walked. And there was Lettie, swimming happily

in the muddy water.

At first Charlie was so relieved that she laughed at the sight. Then she tried calling Lettie to come to her. At first the puppy

ignored her, happily swimming in circles. Then when Charlie bent, and clapped her hands, calling loudly, Lettie swam to the

edge and then came charging at Charlie.

When the enthusiastic greeting was finished, Charlie was on her bottom on the grass, with the muddy, wet pup jumping

all over her. Charlie gave in, knowing she was already covered in mud, and laughed, rolling on the ground with Lettie.

After that, she laid there, looking up at the clouds, with the tired pup beside her.

Charlie was trying to figure out whether a certain cloud was a cumulus one when she heard a piercing whistle.

Charlie leaped up swiftly and looked around. At first she couldn't see anyone, but then the whistle came again, and Charlie

could make out Scott on horseback. He was midway between the house and the pond.

Charlie called out, and then, when he didn't seem to hear, she began walking towards him. He came riding up, cantering,

and then reining to a halt.

"Maria's been calling for you," Scott said, without preamble. "She found the egg basket at the back door, and said she

hasn't seen you since we got home."

Charlie pointed to the unrepentant puppy. "I couldn't find Lettie-"

Scott beckoned to her, and said, "Come on," in an tone that made Charlie waver a bit.

Walking slowly over, Charlie said, "I was worried about her."

Without a word, Scott held out his hand, in an unspoken direction for Charlie to let him pull her up behind him on

the horse. Riding back towards the house, with her arms around Scott's middle, Charlie could feel his agitation.

"We've had this discussion before," he said. "You're not to leave the house or yard without letting somebody know

where you're going."

"I didn't mean to walk all this way," Charlie said, in defense.

"No excuses, Charlie," Scott said, severely, and Charlie subsided into silence.

When they were at the yard again, Scott lowered her to the ground. Sitting there, he shifted in the saddle,

looking at Charlie.

"You were supposed to help in the garden. Remember?" he said.

Charlie looked up at him. "I'll go help now," she said, trying to make amends.

"I think Maria's finished picking. You can go ask. When she saw the eggs and then couldn't find you, she got

worried," Scott said.

Charlie felt her face get hot with embarrassment. "I didn't do it to worry anyone," she said.

Another excuse. Instead of repeating his warning about excuses, though, Scott said, "When you aren't where you're

supposed to be, then we're going to get worried, Charlie."

There was a long few moments of silence, as Scott eyed her with sternness and Charlie's mind scuffled

for something to say that would cause him to unfurl the lines on his forehead.

"Go talk with Maria-see if she still needs your help." He took in her wet and muddy appearance. "Get a bath taken. Alright?"

Charlie nodded in response, and Scott settled back a bit in the saddle.

"After supper, you're going to write lines," he said, handing down sentence. "When I come in, we'll talk about what, and

how many."

_Lines. _ Charlie wanted to groan. To protest. She _detested_ writing lines as punishment.

When she was silent, giving him a reluctant, and somewhat accusatory gaze, Scott said, "Go on. Scoot."

Charlie turned to walk to the back kitchen door, stomping her feet as she went. She saw Jelly watching her, as

he stood at the corner of the garden, a spade in one hand. He looked amused, a sly smile on his weathered face.

"Got yourself into Dutch again, did ya?" he said.

"What would you know about it?" Charlie retorted, rudely.

Immediately, Jelly's face slackened, and he frowned. "No need to take my head off," he said.

He turned to walk away, and Charlie sighed. Knowing she should apologize, right then and there, yet not willing to do so.

Maria was busy at work in the kitchen, dicing vegetables, and Charlie could smell the bread baking in the oven.

She fixed Charlie with a sharp glance.

Her tone, when she spoke, though, was soft. "Hola, Charlotte."

"Hola."

Charlie stood, watching her chop the carrots for a long moment, searching for the right words. "_Ayuda?"_ she asked. She

knew that Spanish word. The word for _help._

Maria shook her head in refusal. "No." She took in Charlie's untidiness. "_Hora del bano,"_ she said.

_Bano._ That was bath.

The rest was puzzlement, but when Maria got to her feet and went to begin filling the wash tub with water, Charlie

knew she meant to begin heating the water for the bath.

Charlie sighed without realizing, and Maria turned to look at her again.

Now, though, she smiled at Charlie just slightly. And gave a nod out of the kitchen, to send her on her way.

Upstairs, in her bedroom, Charlie took off her boots and stockings, and then her dress and petticoat. She washed

the worst of the dirt off her hands in the wash basin, and then sat, in her chemise, at her window seat, looking out.

By the time Maria had brought up the water, and filled the bathtub, and came to fetch her down the hallway to

the washroom, Charlie wasn't feeling any more settled.

Charlie sank into the hot water, and Maria laid a thick towel to the side, and left Charlie to her privacy. She scrubbed herself

all over with the lavender smelling soap that Teresa used. She had her hair soaped into a lather on top of her head when there

was a light rapping on the washroom door.

"Charlie," came Teresa's voice. "Can I come in?"

"Yes," Charlie said, and then dunked her entire self under the water, coming up with her hair streaming around her

face, and Teresa sitting there on the small chair to the side of the tub.

"Hello," Teresa said.

"Hi," Charlie returned, glumly.

"Do you need help rinsing your hair?" Teresa offered.

Charlie shrugged, and Teresa stood up to gather the rinse cup, and began pouring the warm water over Charlie's

head. When she'd finished, Teresa took the towel and rubbed it over Charlie's hair, back and forth, drying the auburn

strands.

It was relaxing, and Charlie sighed. She tensed up again when Teresa said, "What's got Jelly all into such a stir? He's

muttering about you when I asked him to put the buggy away."

"Sometimes he needs to just mind his own business," Charlie said.

Teresa sat back down on the small chair, looking puzzled, and concerned. "Jelly doesn't really mean any harm," she said.

Instead of answering, Charlie dunked herself again, going under the bath water, and holding her breath, until she

had to come up again. She wiped the streaming water from her face, and saw that Teresa was still regarding her with

that same concerned look.

"I'm _always_ in trouble lately," Charlie complained. "I'm tired of it."

"You're not _always_ in trouble," Teresa denied.

"Yes, I am. I get into trouble for everything," Charlie insisted.

"Charlie, that's not true," Teresa said, reasoning. "You're just having a rough day of things. You'll feel better after

your bath and supper."

There was a tap on the washroom door again. "Hey, you two. Supper's in a bit," Johnny said, from the hallway.

"We'll be down soon," Teresa answered.

She surveyed Charlie with a sympathetic gaze. "Come on," she said, standing, and laying the towel on the chair again. "Get out

and get dressed."

Dressed in clean denims and a comfortable blouse, Charlie went downstairs where the family was gathering for the

evening meal.

She was greeted as usual, with Johnny tugging her hurriedly done-up braid, and Murdoch's nod. Scott, too, smiled

at her. It wasn't a full smile. Charlie didn't think it went all the way to his eyes. But, he said, "You look cleaner. Feel better?"

to her, as if everything was just as fine and dandy as could be.

Charlie only nodded in answer. She kept quiet during the meal, not contributing to the conversation unless

expressly asked a question. She found that she still didn't have her usual healthy appetite. She finished her food, but

took no seconds, and when Johnny went to the kitchen and fetched the dessert back, (_a blueberry pie)_ Charlie said

no thank you when he was preparing to cut her a slice.

"You're gonna throw me into shock, pequeno," he teased. "Turnin' down a piece of pie that way."

"I've got things I have to do, don't have time for pie," Charlie said, shortly. She looked across at Scott. "May I be excused?" she asked.

At his nod of agreement, Charlie stood up, pushing in her chair very precisely, and then marched off to Murdoch's

library. She found writing paper, and then she sat, waiting for Scott to come and tell her what to write.

She'd thought that he would come right after her, after her somewhat dramatic departure from the table,

but he did not come immediately. Charlie amused herself by doodling in her sketch pad. From her mind's eye she took the

memory of Lettie and how she'd looked, covered in mud from the pond, and drew it.

When she heard someone coming, she closed the sketchpad and when Scott came in, Charlie sat up

straighter in the chair. Scott came around to the back of the desk, and leaned there, crossing his arms, so that he

was right next to her, as she sat in Murdoch's big chair.

"I'm going to have you do lines about the rule of going off without permission," Scott said. "But, I'm thinking

to add some more."

Charlie couldn't hide her dismay. "_Why,_ Scott?"

"You've been disrespectful, Charlie," he said, quietly. "And, I can see it becoming more and more easy for you to be that way."

Charlie was staring at him, aghast. Before she could speak, Scott went on, "I think I've been too lenient with you lately."

"No, you haven't been!" Charlie protested. Of all things, she felt as though she was going to _cry._

Scott was regarding her seriously, and Charlie felt desperate to make him relent. If he got even _stricter_ with her

than he was now-well-that would be horrible!

"Please don't, Scott," she said.

"Please don't what?" he asked.

"Don't get _more_ strict with me," Charlie said, and to her embarrassment, felt tears gathering.

Scott had a look of surprise on his face. "I don't think that I'm overly strict with you."

"You're stricter than lots of parents," Charlie said, with certainty.

"I doubt that," he said, not sounding convinced. For a long, long few moments there was silence. Scott seemed as

though he was thinking hard, and Charlie kept still, trying to rein in her emotions.

"Alright," he said, finally. "For right now, you can do the lines for going off without permission. '_I will follow safety rules _

_set out for_ me.' Fifty lines."

Inwardly, Charlie cringed. Fifty seemed like an awfully lot.

"You probably won't get them all finished before bedtime. You can finish after we get home from church tomorrow and

have lunch," he added.

Yet _more_ time she couldn't go riding, or to the creek, Charlie thought.

"We'll talk some more when you get those finished," Scott said. "Maybe we need to revise some things, so we're not

misunderstanding each other."

Without telling Charlie, Scott knew that he wanted to talk to his father before that. Feeling a bit unsure about

himself, and how he was handling things.

He left her to begin her line writing, thinking about the training for the army he'd had, and how some training

for parenting Charlie would have been beneficial.

**L**


	16. A Stone secret

Charlie spent all evening writing those lines. When the clock chimed eight times, she left her pen and paper there, on the desk,

and waited for a lull in the conversation. Sometimes, on Saturday evenings, she was allowed to stay up later than eight. Tonight, though, she didn't even

request the extended bedtime. She thought, glumly, that the extra time would just be spent in punishment writing, so she would

rather go to bed and read on her own.

"May I stop for tonight, and go to bed?" she asked.

"You can," Scott said. "Unless you want to sit down here for a few minutes with us."

"Yes, darling," Murdoch said. "Come here and sit with me." He motioned from where he sat in the oversized chair.

"I'm tired," Charlie said, standing up. "I'd like to just go to bed."

Murdoch gave a nod, and Scott said, "I'll be up in a few minutes."

"Goodnight," Charlie said, and as she walked past Murdoch's chair, and would have done so without pausing, Murdoch

caught her by the hand.

"No hug goodnight?" he asked her.

Charlie leaned to hug him. After the hug and a pat on her back, Murdoch said, "Sleep well."

Johnny had gone out after supper, but Charlie said goodnight to Teresa as she walked past.

Upstairs, she got into her nightgown, and washed her face, climbing up into her bed with her newest book. She was engrossed

in her reading when Scott came, carrying the _Eight Cousins_ book they were nearly finished reading.

Charlie laid her book to the side, and watched him as he came in, and sat on the edge of her bed, opening

the book to the marked page. He read nearly a half-chapter, and then paused, returning the bookmark.

"That's a good stopping place for tonight," he said.

Charlie hadn't snuggled to his side, or leaned against his arm, as was usual, but even feeling _out of sorts_ as she did, she still found

the sound of his voice as he read a source of comfort.

"What book should we read next?" Charlie asked. "When we're finished with this one."

"I was thinking of _Tom Sawyer,"_ Scott said.

"I've heard of that," Charlie said. "Miss Susan says it's very good."

"We'll have to see if we can get a copy of it," Scott said. "Lay down, and I'll tuck you in."

Charlie laid under her quilt, and Scott tucked it around her.

"I'm sorry for worrying anyone this afternoon," Charlie said.

"You ought to tell Maria that," Scott said.

"Alright," Charlie conceded. "I will." She was tired now, and felt her emotions not running so high. Instead, she

wished for Scott to not be upset with her any longer. She wished to see the corners of his eyes crinkle in humor, not look as

though he was disappointed in her.

She couldn't find the words to say, but Scott was intuitive, and he must have seen something in her eyes, or in her

expression, because he said, quietly, "Tomorrow's another day, kiddo."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, a bit puzzled as to just what he meant.

"That means-" he hesitated, thinking. "We have tomorrows for a reason. If you try, it can be better than today."

He leaned down and kissed her forehead, and then sat up straight again, and said, "Alright?"

Charlie nodded. She thought after he left that she might stay awake awhile, but she did not.

**L**

Sunday was long and drawn out. And not much fun. The church was hot and steamy during the sermon and

Charlie nearly felt as though she could fall asleep, right then and there.

After services, she stood beside Murdoch and Scott as they talked to a couple of other men. She saw Monte and John

standing with their own father. John stuck out his tongue in her direction, and Monte gave a brief (very brief)

wave.

John saw that occur, and Charlie could tell that he was goading Monte for doing so. They began to shove and scuffle, until their

father turned and said a sharp word to them. There was a time when Charlie would have found that amusing, but instead she

was irritated only at John, for teasing Monte.

After lunch, Charlie worked on her remaining lines. She'd gotten to thirty-two out of the fifty. She sighed, sitting

at Murdoch's desk. The family was sitting outside in the courtyard, drinking lemonade. Teresa's beau, Cole, had come

for lunch and was there, as well. Charlie could hear the talking, and occasional laughter from the open windows.

She brushed her hair from her face, and wrote as fast as she could. Maybe, there would be time for some fun

when she was done.

She went to seek Scott out when she'd finally completed her task. He was standing at the corral, one foot propped on the

first rail, talking to Murdoch.

It seemed as though they were in a serious discussion. Charlie wondered if she should wait to approach them. Murdoch saw

her first, and nodded, and both men turned to look at her.

"I wondered if I could talk to you," Charlie said, by way of beginning.

"Yes, you can," Scott said, and Murdoch smiled at her.

Charlie walked the rest of the few steps to where they stood. "I finished my lines," she said. "They're on the desk."

Scott nodded. "Alright."

"Can I go ride Gurth now?"

It seemed as though Scott and Murdoch exchanged a glance that spoke without words just then. It was brief, but still

there.

"May I?" Charlie corrected herself, thinking that might be the reason for it.

"You can play with the pups for awhile," Scott said. "Then we'll take a walk together. Alright?"

Charlie knew, instinctively, that _something_ was amiss.

"Okay," she said. She wasn't _adverse_ to the thought of taking a walk with Scott. At least not under normal

circumstances.

When Charlie had gone, headed towards the barn, Murdoch spoke quietly. "Start out as you mean to go on, Scott."

Scott nodded, in agreement. "Yes, sir," he said, with a sigh.

"Don't be so tough on yourself," Murdoch said. "It's not an easy thing. Being a parent."

"No. It is not," Scott said, in certain agreement. "Whatever I'm doing isn't easy, anyway. I'm not sure that what's been happening has

been me being a parent. More like-trying to find my way in the dark sometimes."

"That's it. Exactly," Murdoch said. "You've described fatherhood."

At Scott's half-smile, Murdoch added, in a tone filled with regret, "Not that I have any right to speak of it. With neither one

of you boys spending your childhoods here with me."

"Not your fault, in either situation," Scott said, recognizing the role that his own grandfather, and Johnny's mother had had

in that.

"Thank you for that," Murdoch said. "Though you're giving me more kindness that I deserve, son."

They exchanged a look of understanding, and Murdoch said, returning to the original subject, "She's a good girl."

"I know she is."

"You're doing a fine job keeping her that way, too. Instead of worrying about whether you're getting it right,

follow your instincts with Charlie," Murdoch advised. "If your instinct says be gentle, then do that. If it tells you to

be tough, then be tough."

Scott found Charlie, sitting on the floor of the barn, brushing Burl's coat vigorously with one of the horse's brushes.

He paused, watching, and Charlie looked up. Her face was smudged with dirt, and there were strands of hay

in her hair.

"Pups are really growing," Scott said, in observance.

Charlie nodded, and Scott said, "Let's take a walk, kiddo."

Charlie nibbled at her lower lip, and then stood up, brushing off her overalls. They set out walking down the long driveway

that led from the house to the main road.

For the first few moments, Scott didn't say anything, and Charlie flicked her glance to his profile, studying him. He caught her at

it, and gave her a half-smile.

They walked on, and he said, "Did you apologize to Maria?"

"Yes. After breakfast."

"Good."

"Are you still mad at me?" she asked.

"No, Charlie, I'm not mad at you."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead, still studying his expression. He was so _serious._

Scott looked as though he was gathering his thoughts, and then he said, "Rules are important. They give a boundary, a sense

of continuity. They're meant to keep you safe."

Charlie nibbled at her lip again, watching him.

"I know it's tough, going from _no _rules, to having them," he said, and then his tone became more stern. "But, the

facts are, that you _do_ have rules, and I expect you to follow them."

Charlie hesitated, thinking of what to say, to defend herself.

"I try to follow the rules," she said, in a small tone.

"I'm not saying you won't make mistakes, or slip up and break a rule once in a while. And, if

there's a good reason for it, or something out of your control, then that's a different matter. But-otherwise, you'll obey the

rules. _All_ of them, all the time."

Charlie felt wary, as if there was something more coming. And, there was.

"I'm going to tighten down on you a bit," he said. "If you're rude or disrespectful, then there's going to be a consequence. Repeating

breaking a rule, like being late going to or from school without a good reason, or leaving the yard without someone knowing where

you are, well-," he paused. "Those are things we've already dealt with several times, so any more of it and your punishment is going

to be harsher from now on."

Charlie stopped, right in her tracks, to look at him, feeling shocked and upset.

She'd never realized, or thought before, of what a _horrible_ sound the word _harsh_ had to it. She wanted to ask him just what

he meant, but yet she didn't want to at all.

"I don't want to be unfair to you, Charlie," Scott said, stopping also. "And, I've thought about it, and I honestly don't think

that I _am_ being unfair, or overly strict. You don't have a large number of rules to follow."

He began walking again, and so Charlie did, too.

"Do you have questions, or want to talk about anything?" he offered.

Charlie heard the kindness now, there in his tone. He sounded like usual now. Like Scott. Like _her_ Scott.

She shook her head at his offer, and he continued, "I want to keep you safe, and beyond that-I want you to grow up to

be the incredible young woman that I know you will be."

"You think I'll be that?" Charlie asked. "Incredible?"

"You bet I do," he said, and gave her a half-smile. Which Charlie returned.

The rest of the walking and talking consisted of Scott pointing out various clouds and they took turns describing

what shape it looked like to them.

**L**

Rebecca was full of stories at school the next day, telling about all the fish they'd caught. And, how, one of the fish was

big that it nearly pulled Tim Topper into the pond. There had been six kids all together, and they'd taken a picnic lunch

to share. It sounded like it had been a fine time, and Charlie felt the regret once again of not having been able to go.

"I'm sorry you couldn't come," Rebecca said, later, in a low voice, as they slid into their seats.

"Maybe I can come next time," Charlie said, trying not to seem as though she cared so much.

Under the desk, Rebecca squeezed her hand in silent sympathy.

Walking to the stables after school to retrieve her horse, Charlie was surprised to find Lucy falling into step beside

her. "I'm going to the mercantile," Lucy announced, friendly enough. "Want to come with me?"

"I can't. I have to get home," Charlie said.

Lucy shrugged, in apparent nonchalance. She reached into her dress pocket and brought out a small bag tied at

the top. Opening it, she took something out and popped it into her mouth.

She held the sack out towards Charlie. "It's lemon drops. Want one?"

Charlie took the sack and shook out a drop, and handed the bag back. "Thanks," she said.

Lucy chattered as they walked. She hadn't changed in that respect, Charlie thought to herself. Chatter, chatter, chatter.

Still, Lucy was being nice enough at the moment.

Something Lucy was saying did catch Charlie's attention.

She'd spilled ink on some of her father's important papers, and he'd been so angry that his face had been

nearly purple, Lucy said, giggling.

Charlie imagined herself spilling ink on Murdoch's drawings, or his papers or books, and how he, too, would likely

be furious. But, she couldn't imagine giggling at how purple his face turned.

"I'd be scared silly if I did that to Murdoch's things," Charlie admitted.

Lucy waved a hand in dismissal, and said, "Oh, poof!"

"You weren't worried about your father being so angry?" Charlie asked curiously.

"No," Lucy giggled.

"Did he holler at you?" Charlie asked.

"He wanted to. And, my mother wasn't home from visiting with the neighbor to stop him. But I know how to get around him

even if he is angry. It's sure-fire for not getting into any trouble."

"You cry, right?" Charlie guessed.

"It works," Lucy said, with positivity.

"It wouldn't work for me," Charlie said.

"You're not doing it right, probably," Lucy criticized.

"I couldn't do that," Charlie said. "I think it's foolish."

"Well-you don't _have_ to actually cry. You can just think of something that makes you feel really, really sad, so your face is all

sad-looking, and then say how you're sorry that you're such a disappointment to them. To Murdoch or whoever."

At the stable by now, Charlie paused, looking at Lucy.

"And that works?"

"Watch," Lucy said. And, there, right in front of Charlie, Lucy's blg, blue eyes became wide and nearly moist, as if near

tears. She had the most pitiful expression on her face, and her tone, when she spoke was filled with sorrow.

"I'm _so so_ sorry that I'm such a horrid disappointment to you! I know I'm not what you wanted as a daughter! I wish

I could be better for you, and be what you want!"

When Charlie was still staring at Lucy, her own eyes wide in shock at Lucy's performance, Lucy returned to normal,

her eyes drying up, and she took another lemon drop from her bag in carefree nonchalance.

"That was-astonishing," Charlie said, feeling a grudging admiration for Lucy's theatrics.

Lucy gave a mock curtsy. "Thank you."

Charlie went into the stable, to tell Jake she was ready for Gurth to be saddled. Then she waited by Lucy again.

"You really say that to your father?" she asked, incredulously.

"Well, I said it to him yesterday, when I spilled the ink, because he looked as though he was going to explode. And, my

mother wasn't home from visiting with the neighbor yet, so she wasn't there to help me. So, I did it. You can't just do it all

the time, though, or they won't take it serious. You have to _save_ it, for when you really, really need to keep from getting

into trouble."

"But, it worked?" Charlie asked. "You didn't get into trouble?"

"No," Lucy said, with a smug sort of smile. "No trouble. He even came later with a new puzzle for me. That's his way

of making up."

Even at that moment, when she'd actually admired Lucy's pretend display, she knew that Lucy Stone was a very

spoiled girl. And Lancer men wouldn't fall for such a show of theatrics.

**L**


	17. Family ways

At home, Charlie was quick to greet Maria, change her clothes, and begin on her outside chores. She took the

cookie that Maria had just taken from the oven for her snack, and went outside to tend to the chickens. The rooster, who barely

tolerated Charlie, or any human at all, was in one of his moods. He skittered sideways as he approached her, and Charlie took

care not to seem as though she was challenging him. Maria called him Frederick, and he'd only just come to Lancer within the last

week.

Maria had instructed her in the best ways to deal with him. Of course, Maria wasn't wary at all of the rooster. Charlie was, though

she tried not to show it. She brandished the stick at her side. Maria had said to carry the stick, or something else, and that way

Frederick knew she meant business, and he wouldn't actually follow thru with his aggression.

"Estar preparada para usarlo," Maria had told Charlie. _Be prepared to use_ it.

The rooster continued to come at her sideways, and Charlie gave him fair warning. "I'll bop you right on your head, Frederick," she

threatened.

Everybody said not to show fear, or a challenge to him, but for some reason that afternoon he seemed to be

extra cantankerous. Charlie was standing very still, hoping he would get interested in something else and go on his way. And, he did.

He moved to the hens, beginning his pecking on the back and head of the hen that Charlie liked the best.

She heard a friendly whistle. "Everything okay, pequeno?" Johnny called out.

"Frederick's being a bully," Charlie called back.

Johnny came to the chicken coop and put his hand on the wire, standing at the door. "Is he trying to flog you?" he asked.

"He doesn't want me in here," Charlie said. "And look-he's pecking Henrietta."

She heard Johnny chuckle, and looked at him, puzzled.

"It's not funny, he's going to hurt her, Johnny!" she protested.

"Likely not," Johnny said.

"What do you mean?" Charlie asked.

Johnny's ducked his head a bit, and looked hesitant, though still amused.

"What, Johnny?" Charlie asked, wrinkling her forehead in question.

"That's courtin' behavior, pequeno," he said. "He's showin' her he's interested."

"Oh," Charlie said. She met Johnny's eyes, feeling a little embarrassed. "I didn't know-"

"No reason for ya to know before. You've never been around chickens, have ya?"

Charlie shook her head, and Johnny stepped closer, beginning to help her gather the eggs. They filled the egg basket quickly, and

went out, closing the door behind them.

Walking towards the house, Johnny hooked an arm around Charlie's neck, affectionately.

"Even if he is courting, I still think Frederick's a bully," Charlie said, and Johnny laughed.

**L**

At the supper table, Teresa was talking with excitement, about traveling to San Francisco in two days time with Cole's

sister, Vivian. Cole had gotten tickets for them for a show at the theatre, and they planned to shop, and have a dinner out at

a nice restaurant. Culminating with an overnight stay at a hotel, before returning home on the train the next morning.

Teresa's eyes were sparkling as she talked about the show, and what dresses she was going to take to wear, and Charlie

was listening with interest when Teresa paused, and said, "What is it, Murdoch?"

A glance down at Murdoch's end of the table, and Charlie saw that he was looking very serious, and not entirely

pleased.

"I think we should discuss this after supper," Murdoch said.

"You think it's alright-that I go, don't you?" Teresa asked him, looking concerned.

"Let's talk about it in a few minutes," Murdoch said. His voice was even kindly as he said it.

Teresa looked not at all pleased, but she pressed her lips together and went back to eating her supper.

"Well, _I_ don't think it's alright that ya go," Johnny said, his eyes on Teresa across the table. "Two girls alone

in the city like that, and walkin' the street after dark-it ain't safe."

"We'd get a horse cab back to the hotel," Teresa said. Now there were two bright spots of color in her cheeks, and

she was looking furiously at Johnny.

"What if ya couldn't get one?" Johnny persisted. "There's bound to be alot of folks comin' out of the theatre at the

same time, all wantin' a cab. You might not be able to get one. Then you'd _have_ to walk."

"_Johnny,"_ Teresa said, her eyes snapping.

Charlie knew that Teresa just wanted him to hush, so as not to pit Murdoch's mind against the trip. Even though she

was rooting for Teresa being able to go, Charlie found the whole thing vastly interesting. Before she'd come to Lancer, she'd

never been privy to family interactions like these. A father's (or fatherly) disapproval of an event; a brother's (or brotherly)

vocal protest; a daughter/sister's (daughterly/sisterly) obvious angst.

She wondered what Scott thought, because he'd stayed silent, not voicing his opinion, and Murdoch put an end effectively to

what might become an argument between Johnny and Teresa.

"We'll talk about it," Murdoch said, again, and then moved the conversation to another topic.

**L**

After supper, when Charlie was in the kitchen with Teresa and they were washing dishes, Murdoch came in. Scott, who

was behind him, took down a cup and went to the stove to fill it with coffee.

"Teresa, would you like to talk now?" Murdoch asked her.

"Yes. As soon as we're finished here," Teresa said.

"I'll take over," Scott offered, and began rolling up his shirt sleeves so they wouldn't get wet from the dishwater.

"Thank you, Scott," Teresa said, giving him a grateful smile, and followed Murdoch out of the kitchen towards the library.

So, Scott washed, and Charlie dried, as Johnny came and half-sat on the table, cutting up an apple with his

pocketknife and eating it.

They began to talk about a horse auction that was going to be held the next Friday afternoon, and continuing into

Saturday. Johnny was saying as he thought that he would go to take a '_look see'._

"You're not looking to buy, are you?" Scott was asking him.

Johnny shrugged. "Just takin' a look. See what catches my eye."

Scott gave a knowing nod at his brother.

"If you go, could I go, too?" Charlie asked Scott.

"I don't know that I will go, kiddo."

At the look of disappointment on Charlie's face, Johnny spoke up. "If Scott says it's alright, you can come along

with me, pequeno."

Charlie flashed Johnny a dimpled grin. "Can I?" she asked, looking at Scott hopefully.

"Have a good week, and you can go with Johnny," Scott said, in answer.

"You mean don't be late?" Charlie asked. "Is that part of a good week?"

"That, and do your chores. Not be sassy," Scott added.

"Okay," Charlie said, feeling her face warm a bit.

She wondered if there would be root beer again, as there had been the last time she went with Johnny

to a horse auction.

**L**

Charlie stayed within the realm of good behavior for the next few days. Teresa had successfully won her

case to go to San Francisco on Thursday with Cole's sister. Murdoch seemed reserved about it, but had

given his somewhat reluctant permission. The trip had even been extended to another night, meaning that Teresa wouldn't be

home until Saturday sometime, on the train.

On Wednesday evening, Charlie sat in the middle of Teresa's bed, watching as the older girl packed her suitcase.

"I don't think I'll pack my dress for the theatre until the last minute," Teresa was saying. "I want to keep it from wrinkling

as much as I can."

"I'm going to miss you, but I'm glad that you get to go," Charlie told her.

"You'll hardly have time to miss me before I'm back again," Teresa said. "And, I'm glad, too."

"I'm glad that Murdoch listened and didn't say no."

"Murdoch is reasonable. I knew he'd hear me out," Teresa said.

"Johnny's not happy," Charlie said, and Teresa shook her head.

"No. But, he'll be over it by the time I get home." She stopped folding her clothes to look at Charlie. "He means well-he's

just protective of me."

"Yes," Charlie said. There was no denying the truth to that statement.

"He is of you, as well," Teresa said, going to her armoire, and ruffling thru the dresses hanging. "That's part of Johnny's

personality-to be protective of the ones he loves."

Charlie thought about that for a few minutes as she watched Teresa sort thru more clothing.

"Johnny hasn't had a real good life, has he?" Charlie asked. "Before he came here, I mean."

"I don't think he's had an _easy_ life," Teresa said. "I don't know if he would say that it's been a bad one, though."

"Is it true that his stepfather whipped him?" Charlie asked.

"I think that's true," Teresa said, and then turned to look at Charlie. "You shouldn't bring up things about a person's

past life, though, Charlie. Not unless they share it with you first." She turned back to her task. "And, Johnny doesn't really

like to talk about some of that."

Charlie nodded in understanding.

She moved the topic to other things then. School. And then to Lucy Stone, telling Teresa that she'd been talking

to Lucy again, of late.

"That's good, I'm glad," Teresa said. "I know May says that she worries about Lucy not having many friends."

_May. That was Lucy's older sister, that Teresa was friends with._

"I'm not sayin' that I'm gonna be _friends_ with her, or anything," Charlie said, hastily, not wanting Teresa to misunderstand.

"I still don't care for her much sometimes. But, she's been nicer lately."

"That's good," Teresa said.

"She talks about things at her house," Charlie said, picking up a blouse of Teresa's to run her hands across the

soft fabric. "And how her father doesn't ever punish her. She never gets into trouble."

"Well-that's not the usual way of things," Teresa said, and then paused to look at Charlie again. "You know that, right? Lucy's-well,

she's spoiled-" Teresa paused, to caution Charlie, "And don't you repeat what I'm saying, you hear?"

"I won't," Charlie promised.

"Well-anyway, May says her parents had given up hope of having another child, and so when Lucy came along, they were

just so happy, and that's caused them to spoil her," Teresa said. "Even May thinks they let her have her way too often."

"I can't decide whether I should take the yellow or the light blue," Teresa was musing as she looked over two other

dresses.

"Oh-the yellow for sure," came a mocking voice at the open doorway. Both girls turned to see Johnny lounging there,

leaning against the door frame, his eyes twinkling.

Teresa surveyed him with a stern expression. "You can come in, _as long_ as you don't nag me about going."

Johnny held up his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, Murdoch says it's okay, so I'm not gonna say any more." Then he seemed

to turn serious yet again. "As long ya promise that you're gonna be careful-and use your common sense-"

"Johnny," Teresa said, and then she sighed, putting down the dress in her hand, and walking over to where he stood.

"I will be very careful," she said, laying her hand on his chest. "I promise."

"Okay," he said.

Watching them made Charlie feel warm inside. She wasn't sure just why.

**L**


	18. Auction

When Saturday morning came, Charlie was up with the sun, dressing in her jeans and a button-up shirt. She clattered down

the stairs, and went to the dining room. Maria was setting a large platter of scrambled eggs and ham in the center of the

table.

She ate heartily, as the talk at the table was about Teresa's time of estimated arrival home, and the auction that

morning in town. When they were preparing to leave, she and Johnny, Scott stood by as they saddled their horses.

"Sure you don't wanna come with, Scott?" Johnny asked.

"I've got a few things I want to get done this morning," Scott told him. He reached out to run a hand over

Charlie's hair. "Maybe I'll come into town later on, and meet up with you two. How's that?"

Charlie nodded with enthusiasm, and Johnny said, "Sounds good."

The town was busy, teaming with people and activity. They went to look over the horses that were

in the corrals. There were so many of them, all colors it seemed to Charlie. She stepped up onto the second rung of

the corral, resting her arms on the top, so that she could see better.

She began to exclaim over them all, pointing out certain ones to Johnny.

"Johnny-look at that one," she said, in excitement. "It looks like a giant paintbrush came and painted him with dots!"

"It sure does, that's a good way to describe it," he said.

After a few minutes, Johnny gave Charlie a nudge. "Come on."

Charlie hopped down to follow him. They walked around, mixing in amongst the other people, and looking at the horses in

the other enclosures. When Charlie spied something, she tugged on Johnny's sleeve.

"Johnny, look-it's root beer," she said.

Johnny grinned at her. "You want some?" he asked.

"Yes, please," Charlie said. She reached into her pocket to touch the coins there. "I have my allowance from

Scott. I can buy it," she offered.

"I'll get this," he said. "You can buy me a piece of pie later on."

"Okay," Charlie agreed, happily.

Sipping their root beer, watching as the auction began, Charlie hoped that Johnny would bid on one of the horses.

Finally, he did bid. Charlie watched with avid interest as he raised his hand, once, and then twice. The auctioneer called out

so fast that Charlie couldn't make sense of what he'd said.

When Johnny shook his head at the auctioneer, Charlie leaned in and said, "Did you get him?"

"No." Johnny nodded across the crowd. "The fella over there in the black hat got him."

"Why did you stop bidding?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"When the bid gets to the point that you don't want to go any higher, then that's when you stop, and it goes to the other

fella," he explained.

"Was that too much money for that one?" Charlie asked.

"That all depends on each person's outlook. Too much for one might not be too much for another. I didn't wanna go any

higher on that one."

"Oh," Charlie said. She took another drink of the cold root beer, enjoying as it went down her throat. She watched, and bobbed up

and down on the bench. "I like it," she told Johnny. "Seein' everything."

Johnny grinned at her. "I'm glad you're havin' fun, pequeno."

After thirty or forty minutes, though, Charlie was weary of sitting there. The bench was hard and uncomfortable, and it

was _hot,_ with the sun baring down, and no shade to speak of.

"Johnny, can I go walk 'round for a bit?" she asked, leaning close so he could hear her over all the noise.

When he turned to her, Charlie went on, "I'm tired of sittin'. I'm almost numb."

"I don't want ya walkin' far," he said. "There's alot of strangers in from out of town."

"I won't walk far, Johnny, I promise! I just want to stretch my legs a little."

"Alright. Don't make me have to come lookin' for ya."

"Okay," Charlie said, and stood up. "Can I go to the mercantile?"

"To the mercantile, and then back," Johnny said. "That ought to be enough to stretch your legs."

Charlie nodded in agreement, and worked her way thru the crowd. Once she was away from the auction crowd,

she walked towards the mercantile. She was overjoyed to find Rebecca there with her Ma, and spent the next few minutes

talking to her friend.

Outside, on the sidewalk, in the piercing sun, the girls decided that to go wading or swimming would be such fun.

"The water would be so cool," Charlie said, longingly.

When Rebecca's mother came out of the store, carrying her basket of groceries, Rebecca asked if she could go, but her mother

said no, that they had things to do that afternoon.

Even though Charlie hadn't known that she would have been able to go, either, she was still disappointed. She said goodbye to

Rebecca and went on into the store. She chose a couple licorice sticks, and some jelly beans. She looked over the books

to see what new ones were in.

It was while she was doing that, that she heard Monte's voice from behind her.

"Hullo."

"Hi."

"What're you doin'?" he asked.

"I came in with Johnny to see some of the auction," Charlie explained.

"They got some nice lookin' horses over there."

Charlie agreed that they did, and then Monte said, surprisingly, "The rabbits are near about to be able to tend to

themselves."

"They are?"

At his nod, he added, "I been keepin' a watch on 'em."

"That's good."

They stood in silence and then Charlie went to pay for her candy, and Monte followed her outside onto the

sidewalk.

"My uncle's got a new foal. Wanna go see?" Monte offered.

"A foal?" Charlie asked, thinking longingly of going.

"Yeah. Just born two days ago."

"I've never seen a foal that young," Charlie said.

"Well, come on," Monte invited, starting off down the sidewalk.

He looked back to see Charlie pausing there.

"You comin'?" he asked.

"I'm not supposed to be gone long. I told Johnny I'd be back-"

"My uncle lives just on the edge of town. It's not far."

"Well-" Charlie considered. The temptation was too great.

So, she went along with Monte. The streets were full but it wasn't far to the house and barn where the new foal was

at. The foal was just as cute as Charlie could have expected. It was scampering around the pasture, and it made Charlie

laugh just to watch.

"My uncle's gonna let me work with him," Monte bragged. "Maybe ya can come over and watch me."

"I'd like to," Charlie said. "Maybe I can help you."

"Girls can't work trainin' horses," Monte scoffed.

"Who says they can't?" Charlie demanded, immediately feeling riled.

"Everybody knows that," Monte said, sounding superior.

"Well, it's not true. I've helped Johnny-he even taught me how to clean the horse's hooves-"

Monte was standing there, grinning. Like an idiot, Charlie thought. He looked as though he was going to burst

out laughing at her.

"He did!" Charlie said. She put her hands on her hips, glaring at Monte.

Still, Monte was grinning widely.

"Stop laughing at me!" Charlie said, and reached out to give Monte a shove. It caught him off balance, and he

sprawled in the dirt.

"Hey!" he protested, no longer laughing.

For a moment, and only a moment, Charlie wondered if he was going to push her back, like the pre-nice Monte would

have done.

But, he didn't. He got to his feet, and they stood in silence, looking at each other. Charlie supposed she should apologize

for shoving him. She was debating that when Monte pushed his hands into his pockets and said, "You're the _darnedest_ girl, Charlie."

"What does that mean?" Charlie asked him.

"You're different than other girls, that's all," he muttered.

Still not sure if he was insulting her, Charlie met his eyes, until he said, "Do ya wanna pet the foal?"

Instantly, Charlie forgot her ire at him. "Can we?"

"Sure," Monte said. They squeezed under the fence and walked out to where the foal stood with its mother.

"She's used to me," Monte said, and, sure enough, Charlie was able to reach out and touch the foal.

"He's so soft," Charlie said, breathless. "Like velvet."

The moments flew by, into minutes, until Charlie was jolted, wondering how much time had actually passed.

"How long have we been here?" she asked Monte.

He shrugged. "I dunno. An hour, maybe."

"An _hour?"_ she said, in horror.

"Aw, maybe not," Monte said.

"I told Johnny I wouldn't be gone too awful long," Charlie said. She rubbed her hands on her jeans, and said, "I've got to

go."

"Okay," Monte said. "I'll walk back with ya."

He fell in step beside her as they walked back towards the center of town. They were crossing between the alley past the

newspaper office when John and other boy from school, Tommy Carmichael came running up. They began taunting

Charlie and jabbing at Monte.

"With your _sweetheart,_ huh, Monte?" John teased.

Monte's face turned as red as his hair. With a swiftness that shocked Charlie, Monte turned and tackled John to the

ground, and they rolled and tusseled their way into the dusty alley.

Tommy Carmichael obviously thought that he should make a quick departure from the scene of trouble. He took off running,

while Charlie watched the two red-headed brothers rolling and fighting. She stepped into the alley, and tried

to break it up by hollering at the boys.

Too close for comfort, it seemed, because one of the boy's flying feet caught her and landed her on her rear

end, there in the dust. Knocked breathless for a moment, Charlie moved just in time, as they came rolling back

in her direction, nearly kicking her in the face.

Charlie hollered out at them, and then, suddenly, the boys were being plucked apart, and Val's hands were the

ones on each boy's shoulder.

He held John and Monte by their collars, shaking them.

"That's _enough,"_ Val ordered. Something in the sternness of his tone must have gotten thru. At least to Monte, because

he stopped struggling. John attempted another jab or two at Monte, but got another hard shaking from Val for his effort.

Charlie stood up, watching as Val gave the boys a narrow-eyed look.

"What's going on here?" he demanded.

Both boys began talking at the same time, until Val said, impatiently, "Hush up. One at a time. You-" he said,

pointing at Monte. "You go first."

"John's my brother," Monte said, as if that was explanation enough for Val.

And, it must have been, because Val nodded his head, and said, "Uh huh. Well, no more nonsense on the street. If you

want to fight, do it at home." He gave them both another shake. "Understood?"

John nodded, and Monte mumbled, "Yessir."

"Alright," Val said, releasing their shirt collars. "Get on home."

John took off on a run, and Monte threw a glance at Charlie before he did the same.

There, alone with Val in the dusty alley, Charlie looked up at him, brushing her hair from her face with

a dirty hand.

"Well, Miss Charlotte," he said, "How did you come to be involved with their shenanigans?"

"I was talking to Monte, and John decided to be a ratbag," Charlie said.

For a moment Val looked vaguely amused. "Hmm," he said. "Well-who are you in town with?"

With a start, Charlie remembered the auction, and _Johnny,_ no doubt wondering where she'd gotten to.

"Johnny. He's at the auction," Charlie told him. "I better go."

"I'll walk with you to locate him," Val said.

They didn't have to walk far. They were nearing the mercantile when Johnny came out onto the sidewalk. He was

looking up and down the street. _Obviously,_ Charlie realized, he'd been searching for _her. _

When Johnny saw she and Val approaching, he walked to meet them. The expression on Johnny's face gave Charlie

pause. _Uh oh._

"Found your girl," Val said, in greeting to Johnny.

"I see," Johnny said.

The two men talked for a few minutes, about the auction, and how many horses had been brought in, and things along that

line. Charlie stood, quietly, between them, sneaking glances up at Johnny, and trying to gauge his mood and the extent of

his aggravation with her. She was feeling sort of _chokey,_ and when Val said his goodbyes, and said he needed to get back to

making the rounds, what with all the extra folks in town, Charlie hated to see him go.

Standing there with Johnny, Charlie did her utmost to have her brown eyes meet his blue ones.

"Did you buy a horse?" she heard herself asking him.

Instead of answering that, Johnny gave a brief motion of his hand, in an indication that she should follow him. So, Charlie followed

him up the street, weaving amongst the people. Once off the busy sidewalks, where it was less congested, Johnny pulled her

'round a corner, just past the cafe.

"I told ya not to cause me to come lookin' for ya," he said, quietly, looking down at her.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, humbly.

"I've been huntin' ya for a good while," he went on. "You said you were comin' to the mercantile."

"I did," Charlie said, taking the bag of jellybeans from her pocket to show him.

Johnny raised an eyebrow, waiting, and Charlie knew he expected more.

"I was talking to Monte, and then he and John got into a fight-" Charlie's voice trailed off, as she watched

the varying expressions on his face.

"I'm sorry," Charlie said, again.

Johnny looked as though he was going to say more, but he paused, and then sighed. Looking around, he

said, "Let's get some lunch, if we're able to find a table."

But, there was no tables that weren't already occupied, with others waiting for their turn.

They settled for getting a sandwich each, and when the sandwiches had been wrapped in brown paper, and they

were on the sidewalk once again, Johnny said, "I'm of a mind to head back to the ranch."

"What about the auction?" Charlie asked.

Johnny was silent for a moment, and Charlie felt her stomach clinch.

"You're not leaving because of _me?"_ Charlie said. She knew how Johnny had been anticipating the auction for over a

week. "Ah, Johnny, _don't." _ She looked up at him earnestly. "I'll stay put. I won't cause you any more trouble."

After a _long_ few moments, with him standing there, one hand on his hip, gazing her down, he gave a brief

nod, and said, "Alright. Come on, then."

They went back to the auction. It didn't seem as crowded as it had earlier, at least to Charlie.

They found a place to stand and watch again, eating their sandwiches, of tough beef and cheese that Charlie found

tasted strange to her. She ate half the sandwich, and found that the rest did not appeal to her at all.

She looked up at Johnny. "Do I have to finish?" she asked.

He shook his head, both in answer, and also to her next question of whether he would like the remainder of

the sandwich.

So, Charlie tossed the leftovers to one of the stray dogs that was walking on the fringes of the crowd.

The rest of the time Charlie stood with Johnny, or sat with him, as seats became available. She stayed quiet,

not wanting to vex him with questions or try his patience any more than she had already.

There was a small break, a lull, while more horses were brought into the pens, and the auctioneer gave his voice a

rest. Johnny took Charlie to the 'facilities' that were nearby, waiting outside until she was finished. They walked

back, then, and Johnny bought a lemonade for both Charlie and himself.

When he handed it to her, Charlie said, 'thank you' in a small voice. Sitting again, and waiting for the auction to

begin once more, Charlie took glances at his profile.

He hadn't been curt, or abrupt, or said any more in admonishment to her. He hadn't, Charlie realized, said _anything at_ all of

consequence to her since he'd come upon her and Val earlier. Even when he'd offered her the lemonade, he'd only done it, not

asking if she wanted any, but just purchasing it.

"Are you mad with me, Johnny?" she asked, as quietly as she was able, and still be heard.

Johnny gave her a brief sidelong glance, and then looked back to the center of the arena, where horses were

being brought in. "You did wrong, pequeno."

Charlie blinked in confusion first, and then wariness.

"I went to look at a foal-at Monte's uncle's. It's just on the edge of town," Charlie admitted. Johnny was giving her

the benefit of those blue eyes again.

"The foal was just born, two days ago. I've never seen one that small-" Charlie's voice trailed off.

"Mmmm," Johnny said, his eyes not leaving her face.

"I'm sorry I was gone long, and that you had to come looking for me," Charlie said, humbly.

"If you won't mind me, then ya can't come along with me places," Johnny said.

Charlie could hardly swallow, such were the emotions at his decree. It actually hurt her _heart,_ thinking that

she wouldn't be able to tag after Johnny and go with him. She felt tears well up in her eyes.

"I _will_ mind you," Charlie managed, before she looked away, at her hands, trying to bid the tears to stay at bay.

After a couple of moments, she heard Johnny sigh, and then felt his hand resting on the back of her neck.

The gesture was comforting. "Alright, pequeno," Johnny said, softly. "No need for tears."

Charlie looked at him, hopefully, and Johnny's felt the last remnants of his irritation fading.

Later, after the auction had gone forward another hour or more, Scott and Murdoch both arrived. Charlie spent

the remainder of the time clustered with the three men. When Murdoch said he was heading to the train depot,

to wait for Teresa's train to arrive, he asked Charlie if she'd like to go with him.

Charlie said that she would, and got gladly to her feet.

"We'll see you both at home, then," Murdoch said, to Scott and Johnny. "We'll have a nice supper, with all of us

together again." His voice was filled with satisfaction at the prospect.

"I think he's missed our Teresa," Johnny said, to Scott with a grin.

"I think he has," Scott agreed.

**L**


	19. Reckoning

Waiting at the station for the train to arrive, with Murdoch, Charlie sat with him on a bench, and pulled the sack

of jellybeans from her pocket.

She held it out to him, in offer, and Murdoch shook out a few of the candies into the palm of his hand.

He thanked her, handing it back. They didn't have long to wait, before the train whistle could be heard.

They were standing, waiting, after the train had come to a stop, and passengers were beginning to get off. When

Teresa stepped off, Murdoch came forward, relieving Teresa of one of her bags. He embraced her.

"How was the trip?" he began asking, as they walked out of the depot area.

Teresa began chattering about everything she and her friend had seen and done.

"She didn't return today?" Murdoch asked, when Teresa paused for a breath.

"No. She was staying an extra day or so."

"Well, I'm glad you're home," Murdoch said. "We missed you."

As they reached the buggy, Murdoch put Teresa's two bags and packages in the back.

"Where are Scott and Johnny?" Teresa asked. "At home?"

"No. They're at the auction," Murdoch told her.

"Is that why there's so many people in town today?" Teresa mused.

Charlie sat between them on the ride home, munching on the jelly beans, until Murdoch told her to

close the bag, and save some for later.

"You eat so much candy that your teeth are going to turn black," Teresa chided.

Charlie shrugged. "Oh, well," she said, carelessly.

"You won't think that, when they're paining you because they've rotted," Teresa said.

Charlie made a face at Teresa, crossing her eyes, and Murdoch tapped Charlie's knee. "Don't be rude," he said.

Charlie subsided, not particularly happily, and folded the top of the sack of jellybeans down.

**L**

When Scott and Johnny arrived home another hour or more later, Johnny was leading his purchase. Charlie ran outside,

followed by Murdoch to look over the newest arrival. The horse being led was one of the paints that Charlie had

admired so much.

She climbed up on the corral fence in excitement.

Johnny was turning the newest addition into the corral, saying that he wanted to keep an eye on it for a few days.

"She's beautiful," Charlie breathed.

"A mite thin," Johnny said, "But we'll get her fleshed out." Johnny went on to tell Charlie that the mare was expecting a foal.

Charlie was abuzz with excitement. "Can I help with the foal when it's born?" she begged, pulling on Johnny's

hand.

"We'll see," he said.

Usually, it was Scott who gave the non-committed answer of 'we'll see', not Johnny, when she asked something.

Charlie gave him a puzzled side-look. She had the disturbing thought that Johnny might still be put out with her

over her disappearance earlier in the day.

"Johnny-" she began, and he turned to look down at her.

Johnny seemed to understand what was in her mind because he said, quietly, "I figure you need to tell Scott about

what happened."

Upset, and unhappy, Charlie said, "But, you already told me-I know I shouldn't have left that way-"

"I still say he needs to know," Johnny maintained.

Remembering Scott's recent pronouncement about how he was going to be harsher with her, Charlie felt

her stomach drawing into nerves.

"Please don't tell him," she resorted to near-pleading.

"I won't. You will," Johnny said.

Feeling horribly let-down and disappointed, Charlie gave him an accusing look.

"This isn't what uncles do," she informed him, her eyes wide with hurt.

"Yeah?" Johnny asked, and he looked hurt, too, for a moment. "Well-I'm new to this uncle stuff, so maybe I'm not

doin' it all the right way."

Seeing that look on his face, Charlie immediately felt remorseful. Before she could say so, though, Johnny said,

"You're still gonna tell him, pequeno."

Feeling the brick wall, and knowing there was no way around it, Charlie met his blue eyes and sighed.

"There he is," Johnny said, with a nod, at Scott, who was carrying his saddle to the tack shed.

Giving Johnny one last look, still a bit reproachful, Charlie walked to the door of the tack building, and waited

until Scott came out again, into the sunshine.

"Get your horse settled?" Scott asked Johnny, in reference to the newly acquired horse.

"Yeah. She's enjoyin' some oats," Johnny said.

Scott took his hat off, and ran his arm over his forehead, and then put his hat on again.

He took in Charlie and Johnny's silence, and Charlie's look of discomfiture.

"Something on your mind?" Scott asked, in a general way, to both of them.

Charlie shot Johnny another pleading glance, and he met it, not unkindly, but unwavering.

In short, stilted words, Charlie reported what had happened. That Johnny had said she could go for a short

walk, but that she'd been gone a long while, and he'd had to go looking for her.

Scott listened to her short explanation, and then, stood quiet, and Johnny said, "I reckon I'll leave you

two to your talkin'."

When he'd gone, Charlie looked up at Scott again. He was looking contemplative, but the muscles at the side

of his jaw were working in and out, like they did when he was put out, or angry.

"What were you doing?" he asked, shortly.

"Monte showed me the foal at his uncle's house," Charlie admitted. When Scott's raised eyebrow nearly

disappeared, Charlie added, hurriedly, "It's only on the edge of town. That stone house-"

"I know where it is," Scott said, cutting off her words.

He put his hands on his hips, and stood, surveying her, his expression stern.

"I've never seen one that young-" Charlie began.

Scott held up one hand, halting her words. "Stop," he said, curtly.

At Charlie's startled and wary expression, he said, "No excuses. You were told something, and you disregarded it.

That's disobedience."

Charlie felt her face get hot, and her stomach knotted. The look on his face was scaring her. He looked good and

mad. For the first time, the full enormity of the situation struck Charlie.

"Johnny took you with him today, because you wanted so much to go. He didn't have to do that. Did he?" Scott asked,

his voice lower.

Charlie shook her head in answer, watching him tremulously.

"Then when he _does _take you, you repay him by disobeying," Scott said.

"I apologized to Johnny-" Charlie began to defend herself.

"As you should have," Scott said definitely. He paused. "Did you stop to think how worried Johnny must have been, before he

found you?"

Charlie _hadn't_ stopped to consider that Johnny might have been worried about her. Now that she did think, though, she

remembered his expression as he'd been standing on the sidewalk as she and Val walked up to him.

Without waiting for her answer, Scott continued, "That's no way to treat somebody that's doing something nice

for you."

Charlie's face flamed in embarrassment, and Scott gave a small sigh, looking as though he was thinking.

"Go up to your room. I'll be up there in a few minutes," he said.

Charlie knew then, she _knew,_ that the situation had escalated into something far larger than she'd thought.

She was _in trouble._ Charlie took in his set expression, and then hustled inside the house, thru the kitchen, past

Maria, and then thru the dining room and up the stairs at a half run.

Once in her room, Charlie paced back and forth for a few minutes, going to her window seat to look

out. She could see Jelly and Johnny, walking to the pasture past the barns. The pups were walking with them,

jumping happily. Charlie wished she was there with them, instead of up here, waiting for the _shoe to drop._

She was sitting on the edge of the bed, waiting, her hands folded, when Scott rapped on the door. Once.

He came in, and closed the door behind him, coming over to the center of the room. He took the chair that sat in front

of the desk, and pulled it out, sitting down.

"Charlie, look at me," Scott said, abruptly.

When she did so, he said, "You _have_ to follow rules. You _have_ to obey."

"I will," Charlie said, earnestly.

"You say that, but your behavior doesn't change."

"So you think I'm a bad kid?" Charlie asked, feeling defensive. And, admittedly, she hoped to make Scott feel

sorry for her, so he would stop scolding.

Scott showed that he was onto her play for sympathy by saying, "I've _never_ thought that you were a bad kid, Charlie. I do think

you need some help curbing your behavior, though."

"Do I have to write lines?" Charlie asked, feeling resigned.

"No," Scott said. When she looked at him in question, he said, "Come here," to her.

Charlie wrinkled her forehead at him, but stood up, and walked the few steps to him. Scott had her stand in front of him, putting

his hands on the sides of her waist.

"I'm disappointed in you," he told her, quietly. "I want you to do better." His eyes were intent on hers. "I'm going

to give you a spanking."

Eyes widened, feeling panicked, Charlie realized things were worse than she'd thought. She hadn't considered that Scott

might spank her. He'd only done it that one time in all her months at Lancer. The once at Val's office, when she'd locked herself

in the jail. And then, a while back, when he'd given her a non-frightening three swats when she'd gone to Burl's without

permission. It had been a long time. So long that Charlie had begun to think that he might _not_ do so anymore.

"I don't want you to," Charlie protested.

"I know," he said, sounding kind, and not really angry. "But you need it, kiddo."

He was calling her _kiddo_ at this moment? Kiddo was his term of affection for her. How could he sound so calm

and matter of fact right now?

Charlie shook her head at him in protest. Protest that she needed any such thing. In the midst of her

head-shake, Scott pulled her closer and over his knee.

At first, when she saw that he was intent on spanking her, Charlie bit her lip so hard it hurt, and determined to be stoic.

Two swats in and she was remembering-remembering how much it _hurt._ To be stoic proved difficult, and then, impossible.

She began to wail and holler, and plead. Scott took no notice, seemingly, and continued, determined in his own way.

Though it seemed interminable to Charlie, it wasn't all that long until Scott stopped, standing her on her feet.

Snot and tears dripping down her face and out her nose, Charlie wished she could throw herself down onto her

bed in misery.

"Come here," Scott said, again, and pulled her over into the crook of his arm. He took a handkerchief from his

shirt pocket, and put it in her hand. He tightened his arm, running his hand over her lower back gently.

Charlie covered her face with the handkerchief, sobbing.

Scott pulled her closer, into his chest, patting her back. "You're alright," he said, quietly.

Charlie didn't think that she was _alright,_ really, but she didn't say that. She didn't say anything at all.

Scott, too, was silent after that. In truth, he wasn't sure what to say. He knew he should reassure her, that she was

loved; that he believed she could improve her behavior; all of that, but he found himself feeling unsure of the words.

"It's near supper time," Scott said, instead. Charlie took a step back, rubbing at her face with the handkerchief,

and he said, "Wash your face, and then come down."

"Do I have to?" Charlie asked, so softly that he nearly didn't catch the words.

"Have to what?"

"Come down. I'd rather stay up here, Scott."

Figuring that she was feeling embarrassed, Scott hesitated, "You need to come down and eat your supper. After that, if you

want to come back up to your room, then you can."

Charlie tightened her lips, but made no protest. She knew it wasn't any use. Scott patted her shoulder as he stood up,

and said, kindly, "See you in a few minutes downstairs, alright?"

Charlie nodded and when he'd gone out and closed the door behind him, Charlie went to wash her face in the basin, but

gave it up, and threw herself on her bed instead. She burst into fresh tears. After a few minutes, there was a light tap

on her door, and then it opened without notice.

Charlie raised her face to see Teresa standing there, in the doorway.

"Charlie," Teresa said, softly.

Charlie turned her face away, and Teresa came over to sit down on the edge of the bed.

"It's supper time," the older girl said.

When Charlie was silent, Teresa said, "Charlie, it's _alright."_

Charlie shook her head vigorously to deny that statement.

"Yes. It is. It doesn't _seem_ like it is, right at this moment, but it will," Teresa said, reaching out to brush Charlie's

hair away from her face.

Teresa stood up and went to wet a cloth from the basin, and brought it back over and said, "Sit up."

When Charlie sat up, Teresa sponged her face with the wet cloth. Her dark eyes took in Charlie's face.

"Let's go down to supper," Teresa said, laying the cloth aside.

Charlie looked at Teresa beseechingly. "It's embarrassing," she said.

"I know," Teresa acknowledged. "But, that can't be helped. And, you won't die from embarrassment. I promise."

Charlie gave in and stood up, going downstairs with Teresa. Because, really, there was no other choice. She thought

sullenly, that if she didn't go, and go quickly, it would only get her into more trouble.

**L**


	20. Conciliation

Charlie's face grew hot with embarrassment, as soon as she stepped into the dining room behind Teresa. The table was

set, and there were already platters of food in the center. As the others began to take their seats at the table, Charlie kept

her head down a bit, avoiding anyone's eyes.

She sat down, somewhat gingerly, in her chair.

As the food began to be passed around the table, Johnny, to Charlie's left, handed her the platter of roast beef. She could

feel Johnny's eyes on her. Charlie took it from him, but kept her focus on the platter. She took one small piece of

meat, and then, next, she took a few potatoes, and some beans. As few as she dared to.

Murdoch asked Teresa various questions about her trip, and what the play she'd seen had been like. For the most

part it was Murdoch and Teresa who carried the conversation. Scott made a remark or two about something or other that

Teresa had spoken of, but that was all. Johnny, meanwhile, was nearly as silent as Charlie, who only answered when

she was spoken to.

When the pie was being served, Johnny nudged Charlie in the side, gently, wordlessly offering her a slice of the

dessert. Charlie shook her head in reply, and still avoided looking directly at him. When the meal was finished, and the family

began standing, Charlie picked up her dishes, plate and glass, silverware, and walked to the kitchen with it. Johnny followed,

carrying his own plate and glass. In the kitchen, Maria gestured to them to set their dishes down, which they did, and then, when

Charlie made to scuttle away, again, Johnny caught at her wrist.

Charlie swept her glance up to him, and Johnny's blue eyes fastened on her face intently.

"You're real mad at me, huh, pequeno?" he asked, softly.

Charlie knew that there'd been no doubt to Murdoch, Teresa and even Maria as to what had happened between

she and Scott earlier, upstairs in her room. With all the squealing and crying and noise that she'd made, it wouldn't be

hard to ascertain that she'd been being spanked. And, though she knew that Johnny had been outside during, she was also

sure that he'd no doubt been filled in on what steps Scott had taken.

So, he knew, and now he was asking her this-if she was mad at him for making her confess to Scott. A confession which

had earned her a sound spanking.

Johnny's eyes were serious, not sparkling, and he looked regretful. Charlie knew, and she knew it d_eep down,_ that Johnny

hadn't been certain that Scott would spank her. He'd wanted her to be held accountable, yes, but maybe he was a little bit

sorrowful at the way that it had gone. _Maybe. A little bit._

Charlie lifted her shoulders in a light shrug.

"Kids get spankin's, sometimes," Johnny said, still softly, so that his words were for her only. _"I did._ I'm sure Scott

did, too-and when it's over, then it's over."

Charlie looked toward Maria, and was relieved to see that the older woman was going about her business of stacking

dishes and pouring water into the sink, and did not appear to be in any way listening to the conversation. Though Johnny's

statement about the commonplace practice of spankings amongst kids did not do much to reassure her, Charlie still felt

her conscience pricking her.

"I'm sorry that I worried you, when you had to go looking for me, Johnny. It wasn't-" Charlie's voice trailed off,

"It wasn't the right thing to do."

She met Johnny's eyes this time, and found that she _truly did_ feel sorry for what she'd done.

"We're square, little one," Johnny said.

"Will you still let me go with you, sometimes?" Charlie asked him. "If I'm good?"

"I reckon that I will," Johnny said, smiling at her.

Charlie impulsively reached out to hug Johnny tightly around his waist. Johnny returned her hug, patting

her back.

"Do somethin' for me, will ya?" he asked her, quietly.

"What?" Charlie asked, looking up into his face.

"Go easy on Scott, alright?"

At first Charlie was puzzled, wrinkling her forehead at him. Then she found some of her still-unresolved feeling

about the spanking, and said, low, "He wasn't _easy_ on me."

To her surprise, Johnny chuckled, as if she'd said something amusing.

"I know. But-he's _tryin',_ pequeno. It's not easy for _him_, either."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead again, puzzled yet. She was about to ask Johnny what he meant, exactly, but Teresa came

past, carrying dishes, and Johnny gave Charlie a smile, and went on his way, towards the library.

Charlie headed towards her bedroom, and Murdoch caught her at the bottom of the stairs.

"Where are you off to?" he asked Charlie.

"To my room."

"Not to the library with all of us?" Murdoch asked her, quietly.

Charlie looked down, nearly at her toes, until Murdoch reached out and tipped her chin up with his big hand.

"Charlie?"

"I just want to be by myself, Murdoch," Charlie said.

Murdoch took his hand from her chin, and surveyed her intently for a long few moments, and then

he asked, "Are you sulking about your punishment?"

Charlie had to force herself to meet his eyes, feeling intimidated by that gaze, and his size, and just his

entire general demeanor.

"Because-if you _are sulking,_ then I think you and I should have a talk ourselves," Murdoch added.

"No, sir," Charlie said.

Murdoch's eyebrow rose up, and Charlie realized it had sounded as though she was refusing a talk with him.

"I meant-I'm not sulking," Charlie said, in explanation.

"Alright," Murdoch said. He still did not look entirely pleased, but he said, kindly, "I hope you change your mind and come

down later." He tapped the end of her nose, with his finger.

Upstairs, in her room, Charlie sat at her window seat, her bare feet tucked up underneath, and watched out the

window. She could see the horses in the pasture, and saw some of the ranch hands, as they were working, finishing things

up for the evening, and preparing to head to the bunkhouse.

When the sun was nearly disappearing from the sky, Charlie turned up her lamp, and changed to her nightgown. She

stood in front of the wash basin and scrubbed her hands and then her face. Patting her face dry with a towel, Charlie went

back to her window seat again.

When she heard footsteps in the hall, outside her room, and then a light tap on the door, Charlie sat up a little straighter,

her feet still tucked under her bottom.

"Yes," she said, in answer to the knock.

Scott came in, and he left the door slightly ajar.

He stood near to the window seat for a few moments, and Charlie found it hard to swallow suddenly. She willed the

tears to stay under the surface.

It seemed as though Scott was going to say something, but then he didn't. Charlie heard him sigh softly, and then he

sat down on the window seat next to her.

After a few moments of silence, Scott said, quietly, "We missed you, downstairs."

Charlie looked at him, feeling suddenly shy, for some reason she didn't quite understand.

When Charlie only looked at him, but was quiet, Scott said, in understanding, "Sometimes it helps to be alone, and

think things thru."

Surprised by his comment, Charlie nodded slightly.

To her consternation, Scott asked, "Have you? Thought things thru?"

"I guess, a little," Charlie admitted.

"Well, maybe we should talk a bit more," he said. "What do you think?"

Charlie didn't want to talk about the spanking, not at all. She said, softly, but honestly, "Do we have to talk about it?"

After Scott had talked to his father, once again seeking his advice and direction, he thought he better understood the likely reason

for Charlie's comment.

"Well, how about I talk a little? And, then, maybe you can," Scott suggested. His tone was soft, and Charlie found herself

nodding in agreement.

"It's been dicey with you lately. You haven't been following rules," Scott said. His tone was kind enough, and quiet,

but still-it seemed like another scolding to Charlie.

"Do you understand why you got a spanking?" Scott asked her, then.

Charlie hadn't been expecting any question such as that.

Surprised, she nodded. Reluctantly.

"I'm glad you understand," he said. Scott turned slightly more towards her, holding the book they'd been reading together

between his hands.

"When somebody doesn't _care,_ Charlie, then they just don't _bother._ But, _I_ care," he said.

Charlie felt the tears threatening more, and Scott could tell that what he was saying was reaching her.

As he'd told Murdoch earlier in the evening, he wanted Charlie to not just obey blindly, but to comprehend the

reasons behind what she considered his strictness.

Encouraged, he went on, "I know it may not have seemed like it to you, but, I did it because I love you."

Charlie looked up at him, her eyes shiny with tears. She didn't feel so embarrassed now, for some reason.

"I love you, too," she managed.

For a moment, they looked at each other, and then he said, quietly, "Comere," and Charlie scooted over,

and onto his lap, wrapping her arms around his neck.

"M'sorry," she said, pressing her face into his shoulder.

"I want you to do better, that's all."

"I will," Charlie promised. She meant it, and Scott could tell that she did.

"Alright. Good."

Charlie found herself telling him about the foal, and about how Monte had said that girls shouldn't work to train

horses.

"You don't think that, though, do you?" she asked him. "That girls can't do that?"

"Well," he said, sounding considering. Charlie was watching him with those big eyes, wide and wondering, and _hopeful._ He could

imagine how things would go south again if he was to express his disapproval.

"I think that for _anybody_ to train horses, they need to have a lot of experience first, before they attempt

anything on their own," Scott said, cautiously. Diplomatically.

"Even boys," Charlie verified.

"Even boys."

"I could do it just as well as him, with his uncle's foal, if I learned some things first," Charlie said. "Don't you think?"

"I don't want you to do that," he said, seeing that his easing into the situation wasn't going particularly well.

"I can't go over there to see the foal?" Charlie asked, looking at him as though crushed with disappointment.

"I didn't mean that," Scott said. "You might be able to go see it. Sometime. If you had permission. But, I don't want

you trying to help train a colt, unless it's here, at Lancer, and you're helping Johnny, or Murdoch or I."

"Is it because I'm a _girl_, that you don't want me to help Monte?" Charlie asked.

"It's not that, particularly, although I suppose it does have something to do with it," he said, in honesty. "It's more that I'd

prefer you learned from Johnny on the right way to go about it. And, it's easier to keep you from getting hurt if you're here

at home."

"Oh," she said, quietly. She was looking contemplative, but she wasn't arguing with him. Scott had a feeling that she

might have put up more of a fuss if she hadn't just earlier been taken to task.

"The mare Johnny bought today is due to foal soon," he reminded her. "You'll have plenty to help with when that happens."

Charlie wanted to protest that that was _ages and ages_ away yet. And, the colt at Monte's uncle's house was here _now._ And, how was

a foal going to cause her any _hurt?_ But, she held her tongue. She'd only just had a punishment. She was not looking to

repeat it.

"Was Monte's uncle there today, when you went over there?" Scott asked.

"No."

Scott made a _hmm_ sound, and Charlie looked at him questioningly, sensing there was a reason for his question.

"Do you know him? Monte's uncle?" Charlie asked.

"Yes. I know him. Not well, but I know him."

There was something in Scott's tone, that made her curious. "Is there something wrong with him?"

"Not wrong, necessarily," Scott answered, and Charlie could tell he was still choosing his words cautiously. "I just don't want

you going places when we don't know where you are."

Charlie sighed a little. There was no escaping it. No getting around it. Scott was set in his determination for her to

_be safe,_ as he said, and have what was proper behavior.

Right now, at this particular moment, sitting with him, and with the feelings of awkwardness and embarrassment behind

them, Charlie found that she didn't mind his protectiveness so much. It was, at these times, that Charlie found it less

annoying, and more comforting.

"Okay," she said, in humble agreement.

"Okay." He moved Charlie off of his lap. "Get into bed, and we'll read for a bit."

Once they'd finished a chapter of the book, Scott tucked the quilt up around her.

Curious about his childhood, Charlie realized that Scott said very little about that subject typically.

"Was your grandfather kind to you?" she asked, looking up at him.

There was a slight hesitation on Scott's part, just a slight one.

"He treated me well," Scott said.

Charlie wrinkled her forehead at him. "So he was? Kind?"

"He wasn't _unkind,"_ Scott specified. "He's not a particularly warm person, so he didn't share his feelings often. Except for

his displeasure at my antics," he added, wryly.

"What are _antics?"_ Charlie asked.

"Shenanigans. Mischief," Scott explained.

At this insight into Scott's boyhood, Charlie became even more curious. "_You_ were into mischief?" she asked him,

finding it hard to believe. She'd always imagined that Scott had been, as a little boy, just as he was now. Or nearly as

he was, at any rate. Serious. Intent. Honorable.

"I have to admit that I was, at times," Scott said, looking a bit amused at her surprise.

"Like what?" Charlie asked, eager to hear the stories.

"Oh-you don't want to hear about any of that nonsense," Scott said, with a slight smile at the corner of his mouth.

"Yes, I do!" Charlie insisted.

"Alright. One story," Scott said, and looked as though he was in thought, sorting thru memories.

He told her, then, of the time that he and a friend, at age seven or eight, had been keeping a raccoon. They'd caught it,

and kept it hidden, feeding and tending to it. One Sunday they sneaked the raccoon into church services, sitting at the back

of the church, and hiding it under their coats. During one of the minister's long-winded prayers, with the congregation's heads bowed

and eyes closed, the raccoon had escaped from the boys, and when the heads were raised and eyes were opened, it was to see

the raccoon had made his way to the front and was busily partaking of the bread set out for communion.

Charlie smiled at the thought of such a thing. "What did everybody say?" she asked.

"It caused an uproar, that's for sure," Scott said.

"What did your grandfather say?"

"He took me to task. I stood up at supper."

"Oh," Charlie said. "It sounds as though it was funny, though."

"He didn't think so."

"Oh," she said, again. "Tell me something else you did," she pleaded.

"Not tonight," Scott refused.

"Did your grandfather tell you that he loved you?" Charlie asked, curiously.

"No, he never did, that I recall," Scott said, tucking the quilt up around her again.

Charlie studied his face, he sounded so matter of fact, not as though what he said made him sorrowful.

"That was a long time for you not to hear someone tell you that," Charlie said.

She saw that she'd surprised him by her comment, because his face softened from the lines that made him look

tired.

"It was," he agreed. "And it would have been nice for him to have said it. But, I knew that he loved me, even though he

didn't put it into words."

"How?" Charlie asked.

"His care of me, making certain that I had the best education, and advantages that he could give me. We would read

together, and study the maps that he kept in his library. He would tell me that he was proud of me, when I did something

that pleased him."

It sounded somewhat better than what she herself had dealt with, living at Katherine's. She'd never once heard Katherine

be encouraging, or tell her that she was proud. They'd never found any common ground, or interests, such as reading, or

drawing, or even map-learning. She'd never told Charlie that she loved her. Truthfully, Charlie knew that Katherine hadn't

even particularly _liked_ her. More as she'd had _dislike_ for Charlie.

"Were you angry, though, when he spanked you, about the raccoon in church?" Charlie asked, finding the insight into

Scott's childhood fascinating.

"No. I wasn't angry."

At her wrinkled forehead, Scott added, "I deserved it, Charlie. If discipline is tempered with love, then there shouldn't

be any anger. On either side. As long as it's done for the right reasons, and without anger by the adult, then that's when

it's beneficial. When it's for the best."

Charlie shifted, and looked up at him, out of wide brown eyes. "Like you and me?" she asked.

"I hope so," he said, with a smile in his eyes. He leaned closer, and tapped her nose with his finger. "Time for sleep."

Charlie caught at his hand before he stood. "Johnny had stepfathers that whipped him. Did you know that?"

Serious again, Scott said, "Yes. I knew."

"Do you think that was for the best, for him?" Charlie asked curiously.

Scott hesitated, and then said, "No. I don't. That wasn't discipline, kiddo. What happened with Johnny. Those men

likely didn't have any care or concern for Johnny." He paused, as if considering whether to continue. "I'm fairly certain that

at least one of them was drunk most of the time. So, definitely not in Johnny's best interests."

"That man was just cruel, just a _bully_," Charlie stated, feeling sorry for the little boy who had been Johnny.

"We don't know the reasons behind people's behavior," Scott said. "But it seems that way."

"Time for sleep," he said, again.

When Scott had said goodnight, and gone on his way, likely back downstairs to talk to Murdoch again, Charlie

curled up in her comfortable bed. If she laid in just the right position, she could still see out her window. See the moon,

and tonight, the stars. There were so many.

**L**


	21. Pescar

The school week began with an unfortunate twist. Miss Susan announced that she was traveling to Stockton to stay with

her mother for a time, in order to care for her. She would no longer be teaching their school. At least for the near future, she would not.

The teacher made the declaration, standing in front of the classroom, with her hands folded. She seemed sorrowful

about having to leave her job as their teacher, but her mother's health was delicate, and she was needed.

Charlie exchanged a look with Rebecca, and Miss Susan talked on, saying that she knew until a replacement

was found to fill her spot, that she knew all the students would be diligent about keeping up with their reading and

numbers at home.

One of the Carter twins raised his hand to ask, "When will we get a new teacher?"

Miss Susan replied that she wasn't certain about that. "I'm sure the school board will be working to locate someone."

The other Carter twin raised his hand. "Will you come back?"

"That depends on how my mother gets along. I have hopes that I will be able to return, Tommy," Miss Susan said.

One of the older girls suggested that there be a picnic on Friday of that week, as a going-away time for Miss Susan.

Miss Susan looked touched at that. "That's very nice. We can do that at lunchtime on Friday. Thank you, class. Now,

everyone take out their reading books."

Predictably, some of the children were pleased about having a break, however short, from the grind of daily school. At recess time, it

was all the talk.

Charlie was mostly quiet about the break from attending school. She had mixed feelings, truthfully. It would be alright, she

thought, to have a bit of time at home to play with the dogs, and maybe tag along with Scott or Johnny or Murdoch while

they worked. Still, she felt it would get lonesome not seeing her friends, especially Rebecca.

"Maybe we can still see each other sometimes," Rebecca said, in encouragement, to Charlie.

"Maybe," Charlie said, hopefully.

"My Pa will say that I'm to do extra chores, since I'm at home," Rebecca said.

Charlie suspected that she might, also, have extra chores set for herself.

"I'll ask if you can come to the ranch, though," Charlie said. "At least once a week-will your father let you do that?"

"I don't know," Rebecca said, and, at Charlie's look of disappointment, Rebecca added quickly, "I'll do what he says so

that maybe he'll let me come over."

After that, a circle of the children discussed the picnic on Friday.

One of the boys volunteered to bring a watermelon from his family garden to share, and it was suggested that

he bring two, so there would be enough for everyone.

Monte spoke up to ask Charlie if she could bring some of the churros that Maria was known for making, and that Charlie

had shared at school a time or two before.

"I'll ask Maria," Charlie told him.

After school was dismissed, Monte hitched a ride on Gurth, sitting behind Charlie, out to the spot where the

baby rabbits had nested.

"I can't stay but just a couple of minutes," Charlie told him, as Monte slid down to the ground.

They tread thru the tall grass together, and when Monte knelt down, brushing grass and dirt aside, they

found that the baby rabbits were gone.

"I figured they'd be gone soon," Monte said, standing and rubbing his hand on his jeans.

"Did something get them, do you think?" Charlie asked, misunderstanding him.

"Naw, I think they just got big enough to move on," he said.

"Oh," Charlie said, relieved.

"Yeah."

They stood looking at each other for a couple moments.

"I'm sort of sorry-" Charlie said, and then wondered if Monte would laugh at her for being sentimental.

"Me, too," Monte said, surprising her. After another moment of stiff silence, he said, "Maybe we can go fishin' or somethin'

together, sometime. Since we don't have the rabbits to look after, I mean-"

Charlie nodded, and said, in honesty, "I like to fish."

Monte ducked his head and nodded, and Charlie thought he almost seemed embarrassed.

**L**

When Charlie was nearing the outskirts of Lancer, she saw a group of men in one of the pastures to the north,

working cattle. She could hear whistles thru the air, and calls to urge the cattle on. She rode up closer to the fence

that separated the road from the pasture, and sat, watching.

Trying to see if she could discern Scott or Johnny in the mix of men. She thought she saw Johnny's black hat, and

a few moments later, he gave a wave, and Charlie waved back at him. Watching the movement of the cattle, Charlie wished

she could be out there, in the midst of it, or at least on the edges, riding along and helping.

When a few minutes more had passed, she saw Scott's familiar form, and he rode over and up to the opposite side

of the fence. Pulling his horse to a halt, he greeted Charlie. "Hey, kiddo."

"Hey," Charlie said, in answer.

"Something wrong? Or are you just watching?"

"Just watching," Charlie told him. "Can I come in, and help?"

"You're not dressed for working cattle," Scott said, nodding at her school dress.

"If I go and change, then can I come and help?"

"We're nearly done, I think," Scott said, and, then, at the look of disappointment on Charlie's face, he added, "If you hurry,

you can ride with me for a bit."

"Okay!" Charlie said, and put Gurth into a gallop. She tied the reins and went inside, leaving her lunch pail and books

on the table, and telling, Maria, "_Ayuda Scott."_

She dashed upstairs and changed into her overalls and old blouse, and pulled on her scuffed boots, leaving her school

dress and stockings in a muddle on the floor of her bedroom.

She rode Gurth into the pasture, careful to shut the gate behind her. When Charlie galloped up near the herd, she

spotted Scott, who must have been keeping an eye out for her. He held up a hand to warn her to wait, and then, when

the cattle had turned, he motioned to her to ride to him.

After that, Charlie stayed close to him, excited about being in the thick of things, even when the dust

began to coat her face, and sting her eyes.

When the cattle had been herded to another pasture, further up, where the grass was lush and green, the group of men

began their ride back towards the main house and barns.

Johnny uncapped his canteen of water, and held it out to Charlie. "Thirsty?" he asked,

and Charlie took it from him in eagerness.

"Very thirsty," she said.

She handed it back and Johnny recapped it.

As they sat there, the three of them, surveying the grazing herd, Johnny asked, "How about it, pequeno? Think you might

wanna be a ranch hand?"

"Yes, I liked it," Charlie told him, with enthusiasm.

"You've got a layer or more of dust on you," Scott said. "You'll need to take a bath before supper."

"Okay," Charlie said, reaching up to rub her arm across her forehead.

"Yeah. I don't think your teacher would want you comin' in to school dusty like that in the mornin'," Johnny said, looking

amused.

"I don't have school after Friday," Charlie said. "Miss Susan has to go to Stockton again to look after her mother."

"For the next week?" Scott asked.

"No. She's not coming back," Charlie reported.

"Not coming back?" Scott asked, looking startled.

"Well-she doesn't know when she'll come back," Charlie amended. "It depends on how her mother gets along."

"Mmmm," Scott said, looking regretful.

"So-no school, huh?" Johnny asked, as they began riding back towards the house.

"Not after Friday. There's going to be a picnic on Friday-I'm going to ask Maria to make some churros, and one of

the boys is gonna bring watermelon," Charlie announced.

"Ask Maria nicely, about the churros," Scott said, in warning.

"I will."

Back at the house, the horses were unsaddled, and Charlie cooled Gurth, and Scott told her to go on inside,

and start water to bathe with.

Maria took over the water heating, and sent Charlie upstairs to wait. Sitting on her bed, clad only in her chemise,

there was a knock at her door, and Teresa opened it and popped her head inside.

"The water's ready for you," she told the younger girl. "Make it a quick bath. Supper's going to be ready

soon. And, pick up your clothes first."

"I heard voices downstairs," Charlie said. "Who's here?"

"Cole's here for supper," Teresa said, looking bubbly with happiness.

After her bath, Charlie dressed in a pair of denims and blouse, leaving her feet bare, and going downstairs. She set

the table, as was her regular chore, adding another setting for Cole. She could hear laughter from Murdoch's study.

On another trip back to the kitchen, Charlie asked Maria, in broken Spanish, about making the churros for the school

picnic on Friday.

_"Por favor,"_ Charlie added.

Maria smiled, looking indulgent, and nodded her head. "_Si,"_ she said.

Charlie smiled back at the older woman, and gave her an impulsive hug around her apron-covered waist.

Charlie slipped into her seat at the table as the rest of the family were coming into the dining room. She was intent

on hiding her bare feet. Murdoch would not approve of bare feet at the table, and Teresa would likely not be pleased,

either, what with Cole present.

Once the meal was over, Cole suggested a walk to Teresa, who agreed immediately. When they'd gone, the Lancer men

began gathering their dishes, and heading to the kitchen with them.

Even though she tried to bide her time, getting to her feet slowly so as to avoid detection, Murdoch paused behind her

chair, looking pointedly at Charlie's bare feet, and raising his eyebrow.

"I just got out of the bathtub," Charlie said, as excuse.

When Murdoch stood there, still lifting that brow, Charlie gave him a hint of an impish smile. "My feet were hot," she told

him.

**L**

That night, after they'd finished their nightly reading together, Charlie leaned against Scott's shoulder, chattering.

She talked about the book they were reading, about what things she might do during the break from school, about

how Maria had agreed to prepare the churros, all of those things.

"While there's no school, maybe I can do more things like I did this afternoon," Charlie said, hopefully. "Help round up the

cattle, and things like that, that I haven't done before-do you think that I can?"

"We'll see about you riding herd," Scott said. "I'm sure there will be plenty for you to do."

"I meant _new_ things," Charlie specified. "Not just extra chores."

"Uh huh," Scott said, dryly. "Well, we'll see. But, if you're asked to do something, then you need to show grace,

and do it with a good attitude."

"Alright," Charlie said, in agreement.

"Alright. Slip down under there now," Scott said.

When he'd tucked Charlie up, he told her that he'd heard from Mr. Beets, and that he needed to go into Stockton within

the next week to meet and look over some papers.

"What are the papers?" Charlie asked, looking up at him.

"Financial things," Scott said.

She'd assumed as much, and Charlie nodded.

"There's a lot of papers and things, about the inheritance, isn't there?" she commented.

"There is," Scott agreed. "I mentioned it because I wondered if you might want to go along with me when I go, since

you've got a break from school and all."

"It would be nice to see Mr. Beets again," Charlie said. "Could we try a new restaurant? And go to the bookstore?"

"I'm sure we could do that," Scott said, in agreement.

**L**

The week passed, and a fishing expedition was planned for after school on Friday. On Wednesday afternoon when she

got home from school, Charlie waited for Scott to talk to him, but he didn't return to the house until just before Maria

was putting supper onto the table. So, she only had the opportunity to greet him, and answer as he asked about

her day.

After supper, Charlie had to help Teresa with the dishes, and then she finally had the chance to go and find Scott, where

he was sitting on one end of the sofa, talking to Murdoch.

Charlie went to sit beside him, waiting for a lull in their conversation. She was bursting to tell Scott about Friday afternoon.

Finally, he paused, and turned to look at Charlie, giving her his full attention.

"Homework tonight?" he asked.

"I have some handwriting," Charlie said. She began to tell him, then, about the fishing planned.

"Where at?" Scott asked.

"At the river," Charlie told him.

"Why not at Rebecca's grandparent's, where you usually go?"

"The boys said the catfish are easy to catch at the river," Charlie reported. "They've been catching a lot lately."

Scott glanced toward Murdoch, who was listening, looking pensive, and then said, "I don't know about you going

to the river like that."

Sitting up very straight, Charlie gave him an imploring look, "But, why?"

"It concerns me. You're not that strong of a swimmer," Scott pointed out.

"We're going to fish," Charlie protested.

"Mishaps happen. You could fall in. There's always that chance."

"I'll be very careful, I promise!" Charlie begged. "I won't go near the edge."

"It'll be difficult to catch a fish standing too far back," Scott said. He gave her a half-smile, trying to tease, but

Charlie remained serious.

"You're not going to let me go?" Charlie asked, twisting her hands together in agitation.

"I didn't say that," Scott said. "You thrust it on me-I need to think about it."

With great effort, Charlie kept from fussing, kept from getting sassy, but just tightened her hands together and

watched him with her wide brown eyes.

"Will you decide soon?" she asked, trying to be respectful. "It's only two days from now-"

Scott nodded, and said, "I will, Charlie. I'll think about it tonight, and tell you tomorrow."

Charlie looked to Murdoch, whose expression continued to be serious and contemplative. Murdoch gave her

a slight smile, and Charlie hoped that he would be sympathetic to her request. He wasn't saying anything at the

moment, though, at least not in front of Charlie. She knew he would wait until she'd gone upstairs to bed, before

he gave Scott his opinion.

"Do your handwriting, and then come and sketch with me until you go up to bed," Murdoch said, in invitation.

So, Charlie did that. She completed her handwriting, and then sat with Murdoch in his large chair, while they looked

thru his sketches, and then hers. Murdoch was admiring her recent drawing of the pups, and talked with her of the

contour lines and interior detail of the drawing. Charlie found herself absorbed in his teaching, and enjoyed her evening,

while Teresa read, and Johnny and Scott played a game of chess.

Upstairs, after she'd gotten into her nightgown and prepared for bed, Scott came up and they read together

as usual. When he marked the page, and closed the book, Charlie sat where she was, tucked against his side.

"I'll be very careful, if you let me go," she said, quietly.

Scott half-turned so that she had the fullness of his expression. "Charlie," he said. That was all. But, she

knew very well what he meant by it. He meant that she shouldn't pester him, or continue to cajole.

"Alright," Charlie said, subsiding, and Scott gestured to her to scramble under the quilt.

**L**


	22. La Pesca

The next morning, before Charlie set out for school, and just as she was pushing in her chair at the breakfast table,

Scott paused, and told her that she could go on the river fishing outing the next afternoon.

Charlie's face immediately lit up, and she gave him a dimpled grin. "Thank you!" she told him.

"As long as you agree to a couple of things," he added, and Charlie lost a bit of her smile.

"What things?" she asked, looking up at him.

"Nothing unreasonable," he said. "First, no swimming, even if the other kids decide to do it. Then, find out the general location

on the river where you'll be at. So we know where you are, in case something happens. And, be home by six."

None of that sounded too awfully terrible to Charlie. So, when Scott said, "We have an agreement?" she nodded.

"Yes, agreed."

"Okay," he said, and then, before he turned to go on his way, Charlie gave him a quick, impulsive hug around

his waist.

When Friday morning came, Charlie took Maria's carefully prepared and wrapped churros, that had been tucked into her lunch pail,

and headed outside to where Jelly had Gurth saddled for her.

"Thank you, Jelly," she told him. The old man only made a 'humph' sound at her, and Charlie wondered what he

was irritated about.

Scott came out of the barn then, and asked, "Ready for your day?"

Charlie nodded, and said, "I'm excited, but I'm sort of sad, too, about not seeing Miss Susan anymore."

"It's unfortunate, for sure," he agreed.

"I thought I might stop at the mercantile before school-to get her a goodbye present. I have my allowance from

last week and part from the week before. Do you think that would be alright?"

"I think it's a nice idea," Scott said, and smiled at her.

"Okay. I will, then," Charlie said.

"Don't take long choosing something," he warned. "No being late to school."

"I won't," Charlie said.

When she'd mounted her horse, Scott handed her book bag and lunch pail up to her, and Charlie hooked them over

the saddle horn. Keeping his hand on Gurth's neck, Scott said, "Remember-no swimming, and home by six."

"Okay."

"And, you need to be careful. It's not the place to be fooling around."

"I'll be careful," Charlie told him.

When she was finally on her way, Charlie let out a deep breath. Sometimes, it seemed like Scott nearly wished

she could be wrapped up somehow, so that nothing could ever happen, or hurt her. It touched Charlie, it really did, how

protective he got about things. Riding along, right at that moment, Charlie clutched the thought of it close, and it made her feel

good inside. It was just that Scott worried. She knew that. Sometimes he seemed to forget that she had practically raised

herself when she was in Stockton, though. Of course, Charlie knew full well that she'd made some mistakes back then-like running

with the street kids. But, she wouldn't do those things now-she knew better.

Charlie, once she got to town, dropped Gurth off at the stables, and hurried to the mercantile. Looking for a present for Miss Susan,

Charlie spent as much time as she dared, without being tardy. She couldn't seem to find just the right thing as a gift, though.

Finally, she chose a nice ink pen, using the majority of the money she had.

The school morning passed swiftly, and shortly after the lunch break Miss Susan announced that there would a

prolonged period of recess, so that she could call in a child at a time, to have a private and individual talk with them.

A rowdy game of Red Rover took over, as children were called in. When it was Charlie's turn to go inside,

Miss Susan smiled, and motioned for her to come and sit near her up front.

Charlie took a chair that had been set near to the teacher's desk and own chair. She'd passed by her own desk and retrieved

the gift she'd purchased that morning. Charlie held it out to Miss Susan.

"I got you something," she said, as the teacher took the pen and exclaimed over it.

"That's so nice, Charlie, thank you so much," Miss Susan said, with enthusiasm. "I'll get good use out of this."

She smiled at Charlie. "I'll use it to write you a letter. How's that?"

"That would be nice," Charlie said.

"I wanted to tell you that I've enjoyed getting to know you, and that I'm very proud of the progress you've made

while you've been attending here."

"Thank you," Charlie said, gratefully.

"I've seen a difference in you in other ways, as well," Miss Susan continued.

Curiously, Charlie waited to hear what she said, hoping that it wasn't going to be anything that she didn't want to

hear.

"You've become more settled, less flighty. You've matured, Charlie. Grown up a good bit."

"Thank you," Charlie said, again, feeling warm inside with pride.

"I'm very glad that you and the Lancers found each other," Miss Susan said. "I know how much you are cared

for by all of them. It was a fortunate thing for you all that you met."

Charlie nodded in agreement. She knew how fortunate that she was.

"You have the ability to be an excellent student, but it will take hard work on your part, not to get distracted. If you can do

that, I think you can accomplish great things, Charlie."

"Yes, ma'm," Charlie said.

"Alright," Miss Susan said, smiling and standing up. "Can you send Rebecca in next, please?"

"Yes." Charlie hesitated. "I've enjoyed having you as a teacher," she said. "I hope your mother gets better."

"Thank you, Charlie."

L

After school, it was a large group of children that headed to the lucky fishing spot on the river. Nine of them, altogether.

They were a rowdy, cheerful bunch as they walked there, Charlie and Tommy leading their horses.

Since she didn't have her own fishing pole, and was set to borrow

one of Jason's, Charlie carried, instead, a can filled with worms for bait.

Once they were at the destination, Charlie tied Gurth to a tree, and looked around with great interest. She'd never been to any part of the

river at all, and this part was particularly pretty, it seemed to her.

There was a path worn, from the frequent foot traffic, and down a ways someone had hung a rope swing.

Charlie pointed to it, and asked Jason, "Doesn't it scare the fish away if somebody swings off of that, and stirs up the

water?"

"Sure. Nobody does it while we're fishin'," Jason told her. He went about getting Charlie set up to fish, beginning to

bait her hook.

"I can do that," Charlie told him.

"Yeah?" Jason asked, looking at her in surprise.

Charlie nodded. "Johnny showed me."

Jason gave her an approving grin. "That's good. Most girls can't. Or won't."

"I'm not most girls," Charlie told him, grinning right back.

L

The next couple of hours were spent casting, and reeling in, and a large number of catfish were caught. When there was

an abundant amount of fish on the stringer, some of the other kids said they were hot and wanted to swim to cool off.

The fishing tackle began to be put away, and Charlie went to whisper to Rebecca.

"Are you going to swim?"

"Are you?" Rebecca countered, seeing the look on Charlie's face.

"I'm not a very good swimmer," Charlie admitted. "And, also, Scott said not to-"

"Well, then, I won't either," Rebecca assured her.

"Are they going to wear their clothes in?" Charlie asked, watching the others, five boys, and two girls as they began

to dispense with their shoes and stockings.

"The boys will. They do it all the time," Rebecca said.

"What about Sue and Ellen?" Charlie asked, nodding at the two girls, who were giggling as the boys splashed them

with the muddy river water.

"They'll probably just wade for awhile," Rebecca said.

Charlie considered. "I could wade at the edge-"

"It drops really quickly, though, and far," Rebecca warned.

"Oh," Charlie said, and considered again.

Their names were being called by the boys, urged to come and join in, and Charlie exchanged a look with Rebecca.

"Let's just sit at the edge," Rebecca suggested.

"That's no fun for you," Charlie said.

Rebecca squeezed her hand. "I have fun with you no matter what we do."

They found a spot near enough to where the other kids were playing, and sat down, taking off their shoes and stockings to

rub their feet in the cool mud.

"Come in!" one of the boys called out again. Sue and Ellen had gotten in deeper until they were nearly swimming.

"Sue likes all the boys," Rebecca said, in a whisper to Charlie.

It seemed to Charlie that Sue was sort of silly, always trying to impress the boys. She hadn't baited her own book earlier,

but had squealed at the sight of the wiggling worm, until Jason had done it for her.

The boys began to take turns shimmying up the tree ladder and grasping the rope and then swinging out over the water and

dropping in. Charlie wished that she could do it, swing out and drop in, and be a strong enough swimmer to do so.

One of the boys came splashing out of the water, Tommy Carmichael, and flung handfuls of water at Charlie and Rebecca.

Both girls laughed, and scooted closer, splashing him back.

Charlie was having such a good time, that she was caught off-guard, when more splashing and shoving began, and she fell

backward, into the water. She felt her balance slip, and the brown water rose up, and she nearly went under, panicking when

she couldn't touch her feet on the bottom. Of anything.

She screamed, and got a mouthful of river water, and then felt an arm grabbing at her, and pulling her back in, and to the edge

of the water.

"You okay?" Jason said, depositing her on the riverbank, and peering into her face.

Charlie nodded, coughing out the water she'd swallowed.

"Give her some room," Jason was telling the others. "Let her breathe."

Charlie could hear Tommy telling her sorry for pushing her so hard, and Charlie spoke up enough to tell

him that it was alright, and she wasn't harmed.

After that, the boys swam some more, and Charlie sat on the bank, hoping her clothes would dry in the sunshine.

She found she was still shaky. Every time she thought of how it had been-feeling helpless and not being able to touch the

bottom, and how it had felt as though a vacuum of some sort was pulling her down-well, it made her shiver.

"Are you cold?" Rebecca asked, concerned.

Charlie shook her head in denial. "I'm alright. It was just-" she hesitated.

"Scary," Rebecca said, softly, in understanding.

"Yeah."

Charlie cast a look down at her dress, covered with mud and still dripping in spots. "I hope this dries before I get home."

"You can explain, can't ya? About how you didn't go in on purpose?" Rebecca said.

"I will, but he's not gonna be happy-he said not to do any messing around so I wouldn't fall in."

"He's kind, though," Rebecca said. "He'll listen to you first-my pa, he's not like that. He hollers first, and then if he finds

out he was wrong, he never says so." Her face turned red. "I shouldn't talk about him like that."

"It's okay, you can tell me things," Charlie assured her. "I won't tell anybody."

When Charlie found that it was heading onto six o'clock, when one of the boys checked the pocket watch he'd left on the

bank of the river, most of the kids decided to leave at the same time.

Collecting Gurth from his shady spot where he'd been tied alongside Tommy's horse, Charlie gave him a pat and

said her goodbyes, exchanging her wishes with Rebecca that they would see one another soon.

Charlie rode home, still barefoot, with her shoes tied over the saddle horn. She felt clammy, and uncomfortable. It seemed

to be taking a long time for her clothes to dry.

Once she'd reached the barn at home, she saw that there were no ranch hands about. They were probably having their

supper in the bunkhouse by now. At the thought of supper, Charlie felt her stomach rumbling with hunger. She hoped that

Maria or Teresa had heaped a plateful of food and put it back for her.

She dismounted, and began to unsaddle Gurth, when she heard the back door flapping shut, and turned to see

Scott walking towards her. He looked not like his usual self. But, instead, he looked disheveled, and worn.

At first, his gaze was welcoming. "How was fishing?" he asked, before he'd reached her.

Then he took in her still sodden appearance, and his expression changed to surprise, and then worry.

"You're wet," he observed, and began to frown.

"The boys were splashing us," Charlie said. The swift lie by omission sprung to her lips without any effort on her part.

Scott's forehead furrowed as he looked her up and down.

"You're completely soaked, Charlie," he said, looking as though he didn't believe what she was saying.

"They were just playing," she said.

Scott got quiet, as Charlie pulled the saddle off, and then he took it from her, carrying it to the tack shed. Charlie followed him,

going to get a brush, and then went back to begin brushing Gurth down.

Scott came over to stand near her again, and, though he was quiet, he was studying Charlie with an intentness that

made her uncomfortable.

Charlie paused in her brushing, to look at Scott in question, at his expression.

"Did you go swimming, Charlie?" he asked, and there was an edge to his tone.

Charlie shook her head so hard that her braid flipped back and forth. "No, Scott," she said, with vehemence.

Still he studied her, not looking convinced.

Charlie felt her face flame. In nerves, and also in pique.

"I didn't go swimming," Charlie said, in insistence.

"Alright," Scott said, quietly, in apparent acceptance, but his eyes stayed on her face, and Charlie felt a wave of heat rush over her face

again.

"You don't believe me," Charlie said, flatly, feeling her anger simmering.

"I didn't say that," Scott said, quietly.

"Well, I didn't go swimming," Charlie maintained, feeling stubborn.

"Charlie. Alright. That's enough." After a few moment's pause of unease, he said, "I'll put your horse away for you. You

should go in and change out of those clothes. Your plate's keeping warm in the oven."

Scott took the brush from her hand, and nodded towards the house. "Go on."

Charlie, still feeling piqued, swept her eyes up to his, and then walked to the house, carrying her shoes. She opened the heavy

front door, and dropped the shoes. Nearly to the foot of the staircase, she heard Murdoch's booming voice.

"Hello, sweetheart."

Charlie paused, her hand on the stair banister. "Hello."

"How was your afternoon?"

"It was good. Fun."

"That's fine," he said, and then, standing near, he added, "Goodness, but you're muddy and wet."

"Scott's mad about it," Charlie said, without thinking.

Murdoch's eyebrow rose slightly. "Over mud on a dress?" he asked, sounding surprised.

Charlie regretted her quick words, and shrugged, her eyes meeting his. Murdoch reached out to cup his hand around her

face. "I'm sure he's not angry about something like that," Murdoch said.

They could hear the front door opening, and then closing, and Charlie said, "I've got to change," and sped upstairs.

L


	23. Hard truths

Charlie changed her clothes, shedding the heavy, wet dress and petticoats and rubbing herself dry. When she had on her

overalls once again, she felt decidedly better.

Her stomach was protesting vehemently at being empty for so long, and she went to the kitchen, using an oven mitt to take the plate

out, that had been left for her.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, eating the baked chicken and scalloped potatoes, with string beans, and a large piece

of Maria's homemade bread, when Scott came in.

He went to the icebox and took out a jug of milk, going to the cabinet and pulling down two glasses. When he'd filled them,

he set one down in front of Charlie, and then sat across from her, holding the other in his hands.

"Thank you," Charlie said. "I was real hungry," she added, indicating her nearly-empty plate.

"There's some pie, too. Cherry."

"Yum," Charlie said.

Scott took a drink from his milk glass, and asked, "How was the last day at school?"

"Miss Susan talked to every single one of us alone, as a goodbye, I guess."

"That was a kind thing for her to do," Scott said.

Charlie nodded, and said, "She said some nice things to me."

"Did she?" Scott asked, looking interested.

"Yes. She said that I've grown up a lot since she first met me. And, that she thinks I can be a really good student." She took a drink

of her own milk, and added, in honesty, "If I work hard, and don't get distracted."

Scott nodded in acknowledgement, and said, "I think you can do that. Can't you?"

Charlie met his eyes across the table, and nodded back. "I'll really try."

"Did you stop this morning to buy her a gift?"

"Yes. A pen. She said she'll use it to write me a letter," Charlie said.

"That's good."

He stood up, going to the counter, where the pie was covered with a towel, and cut two pieces, bringing them

back over to the table.

As they sat across from one another, eating the pieces of cherry pie, Charlie thought how cozy it was in the kitchen,

just the two of them. The quiet wasn't uncomfortable. Into the closeness, Charlie spoke up. "I didn't go swimming, Scott,"

she told him, once again, her voice earnest.

Scott met her eyes, and then, he waited, sensing that she was going to say more.

"And, I know you said to be careful, and not be fooling around-but they were splashing us, and pushing-" she hesitated, and then

added, swiftly, "Not to hurt us, just playing. And I was so near the edge that I fell in."

Scott was looking serious, very serious, and Charlie suddenly found her heart thumping.

"Are you mad at me?" she asked him.

Scott sighed. "No. I'm not mad at you."

"Jason helped me out-I think I would have been alright, because I was so near the bank, but I went under

and it made me sort of scared-" Charlie admitted.

Scott looked considering, and worried, and Charlie could almost see his mind turning over his thoughts.

"I guess you won't let me go anymore," Charlie said, dejected.

"No," Scott said, and Charlie felt her heart sink. Until his next words. "Not until you've mastered swimming, and

I'm able to feel sure that you could save yourself. So, swimming lessons need to start as soon as possible."

Charlie gave him a full-out dimpled smile. "You mean it?"

"I mean it."

"Tomorrow-we could do a lesson tomorrow," Charlie said, looking at him hopefully. "Couldn't we?"

"We'll try to squeeze one in in the afternoon, if we can."

Charlie gave him another smile.

L

The thought of having an extended break from school appealed to Charlie. At first. After a few days went by, though,

she found that it wasn't as appealing as she'd imagined it would be. She missed Rebecca and Jason, and even Monte. There were

plenty of chores to do, to keep her days occupied. And, it was pleasant to have time to rowdy with the two pups, and have lots of hours

to lay in the barn loft and read. But, again, she missed seeing the other kids.

It didn't help that Scott had been too busy to do the promised swimming lesson at the creek. He'd apologized to Charlie, but

said that there were things he had to get completed. There was fencing that needed to be taken down, and another area that fencing

had to be put up. There had been several cattle that were ill, and two ranch hands had come down with chest infections, and were

confined to the bunkhouse, per doctor's orders.

Thus, Scott was stretched thin with his time, and Charlie was still waiting for her first official swimming lesson.

At the end of that week, with six days down with no school, Charlie had reached the point where she was less enchanted

with being at the ranch all day, every day. They hadn't even gone to church on the previous Sunday because of all the work that

needed to be done.

On Friday of that week, Maria left to go and help her niece with her new baby. She was sent along with gifts from the Lancers.

A beautiful baby blanket, and a teething ring.

Supper was simple. Teresa served a cold soup, which was a new recipe she'd wanted to try. Charlie didn't care for the taste

of it at all. She wrinkled her nose, but without comments, knowing that any rudeness on her part wouldn't be tolerated.

She helped herself to more homemade bread, slathered in peach jam so that she could exchange bites of that sweetness with

the soup.

"I guess it's not the best, is it?" Teresa asked, wrinkling her own nose.

"It's nice, having something different for a change," Murdoch said, loyally, smiling at her.

L

Finally, on Sunday afternoon, Scott took Charlie to the creek, and gave her a swimming lesson. Up to this point, Charlie had

always dog-paddled if she found herself in water over her head, and when Scott told her to show him what she was able to

do, that's what she did.

"That's not strong enough to do you much good," he said, and for the next hour or so he worked with Charlie, taking her in

deeper water, and showing her the swimming strokes.

Out in the considerably deeper water, Charlie felt a flutter of nerves, and he said, calmly, "I won't leave you until you

feel sure."

By the end of the hour, Charlie was feeling tired, and Scott could tell that, because he said, "I think that's enough."

"Can I try to swim back to the bank by myself, though? From here?" Charlie asked.

"Alright. I won't help unless you need it."

When she'd succeeded, Charlie was out of breath.

They sat on the creek bank for a few minutes, and Charlie said, "That was fun! Can we do a little more?"

"No. Not today," Scott said, pulling on the dry shirt he'd left on the ground. "Swimming when you're tired is never a good idea. It's too easy

to get into trouble then. Remember that, alright?"

Charlie nodded in agreement. "When can we have another lesson?"

"We'll try to squeeze in one or two a week. It depends on how busy things are around here."

"Okay," Charlie said, trying not to show her disappointment at the vagueness of his answer.

Charlie made him a grass ring, like Johnny had shown her. Scott smiled when she slipped it onto his pinkie finger.

"Did Johnny show you how to whistle with a blade of grass?" he asked.

Charlie shook her head, watching with interest as he took a blade of grass and put it between his teeth, emitting a

piercing whistle.

"Can you show me?" she asked, laughing. Scott explained that the blade of grass needed to be at least six inches long, or as

long as a thumb. He pressed his thumbs together at the knuckles and put the grass lengthwise. Another whistle came about.

Although she tried several times, Charlie wasn't able to replicate the sound. She only succeeded in sputtering.

"Keep the grass taut," Scott told her. "No kinks."

He chose another blade of grass, and showed her how, by cupping his hands, the pitch of the whistle became higher or lower.

Charlie watched him with fascination. "It seems it should be simple-but it's not," she said.

"It takes some practice," Scott said.

They were both quiet for a few minutes, leaning back in the grass.

"I think you look a little like Murdoch," Charlie said, studying his profile.

"Do you?"

"A little. More than Johnny does. Do you look like your mother, too?" she asked.

"I think I resemble her quite a bit." Scott snapped off a tall stalk of grass as he talked. "I have a picture of her I'll show you

sometime, so you can see for yourself."

"I'd like to see her picture," Charlie said, pleased at his suggestion.

Charlie snapped off her own pieces of grass. "All of us-except for Murdoch-are sort of alike. You, and Johnny, and Teresa,

and me."

Scott turned his gaze onto her, waiting for her to continue. To elaborate.

"Murdoch grew up with his mother and his father. But-you lived with your grandfather, and not Murdoch. Johnny was with his mother,

and not Murdoch. Teresa didn't have her parents, so she came to live here. And, I didn't have anybody, and then I met you."

Scott listened, his expression soft on her face.

"We all ended up here. At Lancer, and together," Charlie said.

"We did," Scott said.

"I mean-even though we're not-" Charlie hesitated. "I can't think of the word-"

"Conventional," Scott supplied. "Is that what you're thinking of?"

"Yes. Conventional. Even though we're not like a _conventional_ family, we're still a family, aren't we?"

"We absolutely are."

Charlie studied Scott as he lounged there, leaning on his side, in the grass. He looked relaxed, the lines in his forehead

smoothed out. She sat, cross-legged, facing him, plucking at the grass with her fingers.

"I've heard they're looking for a replacement teacher," Scott said.

"But they haven't found anyone?" Charlie asked.

"No. Not yet they haven't. It might be a while. It's possible they won't find anyone until next term."

"Oh."

"How do you feel about that?" he asked. "If that were to happen?"

Surprised by his asking her that, Charlie sat up a little straighter. It made her feel important, him asking her

thoughts on something so monumental. She knew he wasn't talking about being or not being with the other children, but about the

academic side of things.

"I think I can keep up at home alright," Charlie said, seriously. "Until there's a new teacher. I'll work hard at it, Scott."

He smiled a little. "I believe you. And, you could keep up, I'm sure, at least for a while. I think, though, that

there might be a time when we should consider other options."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead at him in question. _ Other options?_

"You mean like a tutor?" Charlie asked.

"That's a good idea," Scott told her. "We could definitely consider that."

"I don't think I need a tutor, though," Charlie said, in protest. "If I have struggles with something, you or Murdoch

could help me-"

"I'm not suggesting a tutor immediately," Scott said. "But, if the absence of a teacher lasts past a month or so, then

we'll need to begin considering options."

There was that word again. _Options._

"None of the other kids will have a tutor, though," Charlie said. "Except maybe Lucy-most folks wouldn't be able

to-" Charlie's voice trailed off. Scott knew as well as she that there were those in the area who were hard-pressed to

keep food on the table, let alone scrape up the money for a tutor for their children.

"I know," Scott said, understanding what she'd been getting at. "In certain things, though, what other folks do or don't do, hasn't

any bearing on our situation."

Charlie began to feel a sense of unease.

"What do you mean, _our situation?"_ she asked him.

There was a hesitation on his part, just a very slight one, but Charlie noticed it, nonetheless.

"The board at the bank has a say-so in your upbringing, Charlie. You know that," he said, as Charlie watched him, feeling wary. "Their

recommendations on your education are something that we'd have to adhere to-"

Losing any pretense at restraint, Charlie raised her voice, leaping to a conclusion. "They want me to go to boarding school! Well-I won't! I-just won't, that's

all!"

"Charlie-" Scott began. In an attempt to calm her, she knew. Reason with her.

Agitated, Charlie sat up, folding her legs underneath, as if poised for flight. "A bunch _of-fat old men who_ think they know

what's best for me-but they don't!"

"You're getting ahead of yourself," Scott said. "Nobody has decided any such thing." His tone was firm. Certain.

Charlie studied his face, a twinge of hope rising. "They haven't said anything about it?"

"They have said something about it. Thinking about the future. But, there's been no decision made."

"Why are they saying anything at all?" Charlie burst out. "Why did you have to tell them about school being

interrupted? Why didn't you just not tell them anything at all about it?!"

Her tone was accusing, and she knew it. Part of her felt badly for it, but Scott, to his credit, took it without flinching,

or anger.

"I'm required to inform them when something major occurs, Charlie. You know that," he said, quietly, his tone steady. "That's

part of the agreement of the guardianship."

Charlie gave a 'humph' sound of disgust, and turned her face toward the water.

"They're charged with having your best interests at heart," he said, softly.

"I won't go to boarding school," Charlie said, stubbornly, and added dramatically, "Even if there's no teacher here for-for _the next five years,_ I won't

go to boarding school!"

Scott was watching her with a look of part-compassion, and part-sternness at her theatrics. Tussling inwards with himself, on

whether to comfort her, or scold her, he felt at a loss. Unsure.

He settled for a middle-ground of it, saying still calmly, but with a note of authority, "That's a foolish thing to say."

Charlie's eyes swept to him, and she felt a flash of hurt. She turned away, facing forwards towards the creek, trying to

gain control of her emotions. A long few moments of silence passed. Charlie could feel his eyes on her, but-waiting before

he spoke.

"Education is vital. Important. They feel that at some point you might benefit from a broader experience, than the

school here can offer. It's nothing that's going to be considered in the near future, though."

Charlie considered his words, and asked, without looking at him, "Do you think that, too? That I should go away to school sometime?"

"I think when you're older, it might be something then, to consider," he said. "There's benefits and drawbacks both to it."

"You want me to go?" she asked, and then held her breath until he answered.

The answer was immediate. Without thought or hesitation. Definite.

"No."

Charlie looked at him, again. "You don't?"

"No, Charlie, I don't," he said, firmly.

"Oh," Charlie said, eyeing him, and feeling somewhat better.

"I'd miss you very much, if you weren't here every single day," Scott said.

Charlie gave him a tremulous smile. "Me, too. I'd miss you, too, I mean."

"It's a year or two down the road, at least."

"That's _soon,"_ Charlie said, in protest, thinking of the horrible possibility of leaving the ranch and the family.

Scott was wishing that he hadn't brought up the subject _at all,_ but yet-Charlie needed to know certain things

were likely to take place in her future-

He was trying to formulate the best words to speak to her, to soothe her worry, and yet be honest, when Charlie

said, "Why does it have to be this way?" in a despondent sort of way.

"Why does _what_ have to be this way?"

"Why do they get to make such important decisions about me? I mean-I know _why,_ but it just isn't fair." Charlie

gave him such a sad look out of those brown eyes that Scott felt his chest constrict. He was out of his element here, he

thought to himself. There was no way he was equipped for-

Into the midst of those troubling thoughts in his mind, Charlie said, "I wish my grandfather had never discovered

gold at all. Then I wouldn't be an heiress or whatever, when I'm older. And, then-they wouldn't have any say-so about

me."

"It won't help, or change anything to think that way," Scott told her.

"I know, but I still _feel_ it," Charlie said.

"You're entitled to your feelings," he said, carefully. "Absolutely entitled."

Charlie sat, plucking at the grass, the smiles from earlier long gone.

"I know you wish I hadn't told Beets, and the rest of the board, about there being no teacher right now, but, kiddo, I have to

follow the guidelines for being your guardian." He thought a moment, and then added, "I don't want to do anything that might

cause them to think I'm not doing a good job, taking care of you."

Charlie met his eyes, somberly, but earnestly, "You take really good care of me, Scott. They wouldn't _ever_ be able to say that

you don't."

"Well, thank you," he said, feeling that painful tightening in his chest again. After a few moments of quiet, he said,

"Maybe we ought to be heading back to the house, huh?"

Charlie nodded without answering, and Scott pulled on his socks and boots, and they set out, walking thru the grasses.

She was still silent. Quiet. Not in what he thought was a brooding way, but more introspective. Scott wished she would

laugh, and dance ahead of him, picking flowers, like she had as they'd walked here earlier, instead of walking so silently,

in such a discouraged way.

"It's a long way in the future," he said, again, feeling as though he should say _something._ Something to reassure her.

"A year or so," Charlie said, dully, repeating what he'd said.

Scott couldn't think of what to say after that. He couldn't think of _what_ to say, or even if there _was_ anything to say.

So, instead of words, he reached down to take her hand in his.

**L**

"


	24. Definitions

Maria was making jam the next week, and both Teresa and Charlie were enlisted to help with the task. Charlie didn't mind it so

much. It was fun, peeling and crushing the cherries and the pears, and helping to measure the sugar.

"Have you ever helped with anything like this before?" Teresa asked Charlie, as she brushed her hair away from her

forehead. The kitchen was hot.

Charlie shook her head vigorously, brushing back her own sweaty curls. "Katherine didn't even know how to get to where

the kitchen was-she could never have made jam!"

"What about the cook there?" Teresa asked. "Did you ever help her, with preparing the meals?"

"She didn't want anybody under her feet, bothering her," Charlie said.

Sorry that she'd asked, and brought up any unpleasant memories for Charlie, Teresa said, brightly, "Well, now you

can help all that you want, and learn to cook everything."

Charlie nodded, and Maria took time as she walked behind to give Charlie's shoulder an affectionate pat.

L

Spreading some of the newly-made jam on a biscuit later at supper time, Johnny proclaimed it the best

he'd ever eaten.

Murdoch said that a letter had come from Mr. Beets, stating that he would like to visit them on the next weekend, and

planned to arrive early Saturday morning on the train.

Teresa immediately asked if Murdoch thought they should have the Carson's over Saturday evening. Mr. Beets had

enjoyed meeting and talking with Mr. Carson on an earlier visit.

Murdoch replied that it would be nice to do so, and Teresa said she would talk with Maria about a supper menu.

"Cole will come over, as well," Teresa added.

"Might as well have his mail delivered here," Johnny spoke up, teasing. "He's here enough lately."

"Oh, shush," Teresa told him.

Charlie had remained silent during the conversation about Mr. Beets arriving, and Scott gave her a knowing

look.

"Maybe you can practice your cooking for Mr. Beets," Teresa suggested to Charlie.

Charlie looked up, startled at being brought into things, and then she shook her head.

"I don't think so," she said.

Teresa, who wasn't aware of why Charlie's feelings towards Mr. Beets had soured somewhat, looked perplexed.

"Why not?" she asked Charlie, innocently.

"I just don't want to," Charlie said, somewhat sullenly, and looked at her plate, pushing her beans around.

Teresa looked at Murdoch, and at Scott, wrinkling her forehead in question.

Scott gave a slight shake of his head, and Teresa began talking about other things

When the meal was over, and everyone was getting to their feet, Charlie paused, behind her chair, holding

her plate and glass in her hands.

"Scott? Can I go play with the pups for awhile?"

Scott, pushing in his own chair, said, "It's 'may I?' and yes, you can."

When they were settled in the library later, talking and having a drink, Scott discussed again with Murdoch the situation,

and filled Teresa and his brother in on the talk he and Charlie had had at the creek.

"Poor kid," Johnny muttered

"You should have the decision-making authority," Teresa told Scott. "You're her legal guardian. That should extend

to all aspects of her raising. At least everything besides the financial. You've already proven that you aren't

going to use any of the money. Her schooling, and everything else should be up to you. You know her best."

The three Lancer men were watching her, with varying expressions at the end of her impassioned speech.

"Well said, darling," Murdoch said, smiling at her fondly.

"You sound like a lawyer, hermanita," Johnny told her.

"Do I?" Teresa asked, looking pleased.

"Just as though you were heading into court," Murdoch agreed.

"Hmm. Well, good. If I thought I could get by with it, I'd speak up for Charlie and tell that board at the bank exactly

what I just said," Teresa said.

"It doesn't make much sense, if you think about it like that," Johnny said. "Why is it, Scott, that they're able to control things

like they do?"

"From what I understand, it was set up that way at the beginning. Charlie's grandfather arranged it, knowing that her mother

wasn't in good health. With a shortage of relatives that would be able to take care of Charlie, he assigned the board more

control with things," Scott said.

"You mean that he knew Charlie's mother might die?" Teresa asked.

"I guess that was part of it," Scott said.

"And, he thought she might have to go to an orphanage?" Teresa asked, looking horrified.

"I don''t know about that-I think likely it was more for the fact that Katherine was the only relative available, and he wanted to

be sure that there were guidelines in place."

"The grandfather knew what sort that that Katherine was, it sounds like," Johnny said, darkly. "Must have known that she

shouldn't have free rein."

"Maybe so," Scott agreed.

"What was it that was wrong with her mother?" Teresa asked.

"Beets says from what he understands, it was probably consumption."

"How awful," Teresa said.

"So the kid's not feelin' pleased with Beets, huh?" Johnny asked.

"I think he's getting the most blame in her mind, since she knows him the best," Scott said.

"She needs to be respectful while he's here," Murdoch said. "And made to understand that he shouldn't be

blamed for the way things are."

"I'll talk to her about it," Scott said. "I don't think she grasped everything when we talked before."

"Would you like me to do it?" Murdoch asked him.

"No need," Scott said, looking surprised. "Unless you want to."

"I don't mind," Murdoch said. "I think I'd like to. As long as it's alright with you."

"It's alright with me," Scott said. "Actually, I'd be grateful. Maybe another perspective on it will help her. Thank

you, Murdoch."

**L**

The next few days sped by, and Johnny was the one who fit in a swimming lesson for Charlie. In between the swimming

and her chores, Charlie was meticulous with her lessons, finishing the ones that Scott had assigned to her.

She was waiting for Scott one late afternoon, when he'd ridden back in from the range, with some of the other

ranch hands. She'd been sitting on the ornamental iron bench outside the hacienda, waiting, and when he'd ridden

up, and was dismounting, she ran over to him.

"I've been waiting for you!" she greeted him.

"Has something happened?" he asked.

"No, it's just that I want to show you something!"

"Alright," he said, eyeing the papers she was waving around in her hands. "Is that what you want to show me?"

At her adamant nod of her head, he began leading his horse to the corral, and she tagged after him.

"Some of your drawings?" Scott asked, as they walked.

"No. Well, I did do some drawing today, too, but that's not what this is."

Scott took off the saddle, and put it over the top of the corral panel, before he began brushing down his horse.

Eager for him to finish, Charlie offered, "I'll brush him, if you want to put your saddle away."

"Alright," he said, and Charlie took the brush from him, laying her clutched papers on the ground carefully, weighted down

with a rock.

Scott was back within just a couple of minutes, and he said, "Want me to take over now?"

"I'll finish up," she said.

"Should I take a look at your papers now?"

Charlie nodded, and Scott removed the rock, picking up the papers, and then sitting down on a bale of straw that was

sitting there, beside the corral. He looked over the pages, two of them filled with completed arithmetic problems, and

another page of handwriting. And yet another of three words, with the definitions clearly written out in the improved

handwriting.

"Are you surprised I got it all finished? Even the numbers?" Charlie asked him, eagerly.

"I am surprised," he said. "That's a lot to get done in one day."

"Are you proud of me?" Charlie asked him, beaming.

"I'm _very_ proud of you," Scott said. "I thought it would take you at least thru tomorrow to get this much done."

He took the paper with the definitions and put it on the top, looking it over again.

"What's this?" he asked her.

"Oh," Charlie said, coming to sit beside him on the bale of straw. "I thought I'd try to learn the meaning of

one new word a day. But, then, today, I had extra time so-I did three."

Scott gave her a smile. "I'm impressed," he said.

Charlie dimpled, reveling in his approval. "Ask me the words, to see if I know them."

"Alright." Scott looked over the paper again, and said, "How about '_fastidious'?"_

"Fastidious," Charlie said, rolling the word around over her tongue. "Um, that means-controlling, right?"

"Well, in a way. It has to do with detail-"

"Oh, yes," Charlie said, remembering. "It means that a person pays attention to details about things, that it's accurate, to do

things careful, and make sure it's done right."

"Very good," Scott said, in praise.

"Do another one," Charlie pleaded, enjoying having his positive attention.

"Okay, how about '_misconception'?"_

"That means-a person thinks a certain way about something, but they're really not correct at all, because they aren't understanding

the way it really is," Charlie recited.

Stunned, Scott regarded her, eyebrows raised, and said, "My goodness-"

"Is that right?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, exactly right," he told her.

The bell for the supper meal was ringing, and Charlie said, looking somewhat guiltily at him, "I haven't set the table yet."

"Uh oh," Scott said.

"I better do it," she said, standing up. "Can I tell you about the third word later?"

"Absolutely, you can," he said, and she smiled and dashed off towards the house. Scott sat, holding the papers in

his hand, watching her go.

**L**


	25. A Talk

The next day, being Saturday, Murdoch announced that he would be going to town later to collect Mr. Beets from the

stage.

"Make up a list of things you need for tonight's dinner, and I can get it while I'm in town," he told Teresa.

"Well," Teresa considered, "I think we have almost everything planned out-except you might get some more sugar."

"Alright," Murdoch said, with a nod. As the family began to rise from the breakfast table, to set about their day,

Murdoch set his cup of coffee down, and said, "Charlie, come with me, please."

Charlie came, and followed him obediently, as he walked to the library.

She paused at the doorway as Murdoch went over to his desk.

"Come in, sweetheart," he told her. "Close the door."

Perplexed, Charlie wrinkled her forehead, but obeyed, closing the door, as he beckoned to her to come to

where he stood. Once she had, Murdoch lifted her up and sat her on the desk, and then took his own chair, so that they were close

enough that her knees could nearly touch his arm.

Charlie was wide-eyed and solemn. Even with the '_sweetheart'_ from a few moment's earlier, she felt the

seriousness radiating from Murdoch. And the _closed door?_

"I thought it was time that you and I had a talk," Murdoch said.

That only served to heighten Charlie's trepidation.

"Beets is coming today," Murdoch said, and Charlie was even more puzzled. She knew that Mr. Beets was coming.

"I understand that you've got some disturbed feelings, about what the bank board had to say to Scott about there not

being a teacher right now," Murdoch continued.

Charlie wrinkled her forehead again, puzzling over what Murdoch's point was going to be.

"Is that correct?" Murdoch prodded.

Charlie gave a brief nod.

"Tell me about that," he said, and when Charlie gave him a confused look, he added, "What you're feeling. And why."

"Did Scott tell you-" she began.

"He talked with me about it all," Murdoch interrupted. "But I'm asking _you_ to explain to me what your thoughts are."

His expression on her face was steady. And intense. Not unkind, but Charlie still felt like squirming under it.

"Well-I don't think they should have such say-so about me," Charlie admitted. "It's not their _right."_

"Why?"

"What?" Charlie asked, puzzled.

"Why is it not their right?" His tone was questioning, but not abrupt, as though he was sincerely interested in her

reply.

"I guess it _is,"_ Charlie relented a bit. "But, it _shouldn't_ be. It should be up to Scott about my schooling."

"If things were as we wanted-" Murdoch began, and then paused, seeming to gather his thoughts. "That might

seem as though it would be the best thing. And, it very well might be so. That's not a choice here, though, sweetheart. The bank

board's members were set out by your grandfather to maintain an interest in the inheritance, and that includes things like

your education, and your well-being, as well."

He paused, studying her forlorn expression. "I know you're aware of all that, already. I know it's not what you'd prefer,

but it is set that way."

"I don't like it," Charlie said, very low, studying the toe of her boot.

"And, that's understandable. Scott doesn't like it, either. Nor, for that matter, do I particularly like the idea of it."

Charlie raised her brown eyes to his face. "You don't?" she asked him.

"No," he said, simply.

Encouraged by his admission, and by the kindness in his eyes, Charlie said, "What could we maybe do about it?"

"There's _not_ to be done about it," Murdoch said, still kind, but firmly. "Scott must abide by the terms in your

grandfather's directives, and so must you and I."

Murdoch rolled his chair forward a bit, and laid his hands on her knees. "Which brings me to my main point. It is not

Mr. Beets' fault, or any of the board members. They are fulfilling a promise that was made. That's their responsibility." He

paused, giving Charlie an intent look. "It wouldn't behoove you to treat Beets with any ill will while he's here visiting. Or at

_any_ time."

"What is that, _behoove?"_ Charlie asked.

"It means it wouldn't serve a purpose, it would be pointless," he explained. His expression grew stern. "Not to mention that it would

be immensely wrong of you, and rude as well." He paused for effect, and said, "Beets has been a good friend to you. An ally. To all of

us."

The last part made Charlie cringe a bit, at least inwardly. She knew for a fact that Mr. Beets was a good man, and that he'd been

kind to her-he'd embraced the change from Katherine to Scott as her guardian with apparent gladness. He also always listened to

what she had to say, and, when he was able to, he answered her questions.

Charlie felt her face flush hot. "I know that," she said, low.

"You know _what?"_ Murdoch questioned.

"I know that Mr. Beets has been a good friend to me," Charlie admitted.

Leaving his large hands on her knees, Murdoch gave her a still-intent look. "You don't really want to treat him badly, or show him

disrespect, do you?"

"No." She met Murdoch's eyes. "I _wasn't,_ though," she protested.

"You weren't what?"

"I wasn't going to treat Mr. Beets that way."

Murdoch lifted his hands from her knees, and sat back in his chair, raising an eyebrow.

It seemed as though he didn't believe her statement, and Charlie defended herself, feeling misunderstood.

"I _wasn't,_ Murdoch."

"I'm glad to hear that," Murdoch said.

Still, he sat, quiet, and Charlie had the feeling that he was waiting for something more.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" Charlie said, subdued, but yet still dramatic.

"What are you going to do?"

"The exact moment that I get the money from the inheritance-I'm going to give it all away," Charlie proclaimed.

Seemingly unimpressed by her dramatic announcement, Murdoch said, only, "I'm not sure that's the wisest plan, but, I suppose that

will be something you might consider. Of course, you'll still have advisors-"

Aghast, Charlie said, "You mean I'll never be able to decide anything, all on my _own?"_

"I don't think it'll be as bad as all that," Murdoch said. "Everyone can benefit from a bit of advice now and then."

Charlie sighed heavily, and then, after another long moment of silence, she said, "The money makes me different. I don't want to

be different, Murdoch."

She'd thought that, with such a fervent statement, that Murdoch might soften somewhat in his demeanor. Even though she truly

had meant what she'd said, Charlie still hoped he would turn gentle. This _talk_ they were having felt, to her, too much like a scolding.

"You'll have the strength to be different," he said, not disputing what she'd said.

Charlie's eyes widened, and she studied him. He'd sounded so certain.

"I have great faith in you," Murdoch said.

Charlie felt her throat tighten in emotion. "You do?" she asked, softly.

"Yes. I do," he said.

Charlie felt better then. She gave Murdoch a dimpled smile.

"Having strength might mean having to do some things that you would rather not do. Some hard things," Murdoch said, and

immediately Charlie felt subdued again.

"Like go away to school." she said, dully.

"That's possible. It's not _definite,_ Charlie. But, yes, possibly," he said, looking solemn. "I'll tell you something, though," he said, then,

leaning forward in his chair and clasping his hands together, as if he was going to share something extraordinary.

"What?" Charlie asked.

"If Scott doesn't feel that you're ready-or he doesn't feel that it would be the very best thing for you-then he would do

everything within his control to keep you from going."

Charlie felt a nearly overwhelming sense of hope and happiness.

She nodded in response to Murdoch's statement, and said, with fervor, "It was a lucky day for me at the train station, when I met Scott."

Murdoch reached out and opened his desk drawer, taking out a small sack which Charlie could tell held jellybeans. He opened it,

and held it out in offer to her.

Charlie nodded, and he shook out several candies into her palm.

He took some for himself, and said, "It was a fortunate day for all of us."

Charlie gave him another smile. "Thank you, Murdoch."

"You are welcome." He opened the drawer and deposited the candy back in. He stood, to his great height, and said,

"I'm off now, to collect Beets from the train."

Charlie slid down from the desk, and looked up at him, earnestly, "I won't mistreat Mr. Beets, Murdoch."

The older man reached out and laid a hand on the top of Charlie's head. "I'm glad to hear that, sweetheart. You will meet a good many people

in your life, and it's important to always have a kind heart, and show grace."

"I'll try, I promise," Charlie said.

"I trust that you will," he said, and smoothed her hair.

**L**

"

"


	26. A bit of Enlightenment

When the sight of the buggy racing up the road to the hacienda stirred Charlie to raise her head from her reading, she closed the

book and scooted over to the barn loft opening.

She could see Murdoch and Mr. Beets laughing together, as the buggy was pulled to a complete stop. The two men got out

and began working together to unhitch the buggy, and turn Bartholomew out into the pasture.

Casting his gaze around the courtyard, as though he was glad to be back at Lancer, Mr. Beets eyes traveled up, and landed on

Charlie, sitting there in the opening, her feet swinging down.

"Charlotte," he said, in greeting, smiling up at her. "How are you?"

"I'm well." She added a belated, "Thank you," to her reply.

"It's a fine day to be out of doors," Mr. Beets continued, still looking up at where she sat.

Charlie gave a nod in answer, as Murdoch paused to look up, his hands full of harness. He frowned at the precariousness of

her position.

"Stay back from the edge like that," he warned.

"Johnny says he used to jump down from a loft like this one when he was younger," Charlie shared, not thinking it out how it might sound.

"That may be, although I didn't have anything to say about it," Murdoch said, and Charlie remembered, too late, that

Johnny (during his loft jumping days), hadn't lived at Lancer at that time. She felt sorry instantly. She hadn't wanted to make

Murdoch feel badly.

It didn't seem as though he was feeling too hurt by her comment, although his next warning was gruff.

"I _do_ have something to say about _you,_ however," Murdoch told her. "And, I don't want you sitting that near the edge."

"Yes, Murdoch," Charlie said, obediently scooting back and getting to her feet, as she saw Mr. Beets hiding a smile, as if amused

by the interaction between she and Murdoch.

She came down to the bottom of the ladder, and found Mr. Beets waiting for her there.

"It's been a few weeks since I last saw you," Mr. Beets said, opening the conversation.

Charlie reached down and picked up one of the pups, who had come running to sniff at Mr. Beet's leg. _Lettie._

"Yes," Charlie said, in answer.

"What have you been doing lately?"

"I've been staying very busy," Charlie said, curtly, and heard the tone of defensiveness creep into her voice.

She was telling herself to get control-Murdoch was not very far off, and she didn't need him overhearing and thinking that she wasn't heeding

his warnings from their talk earlier in his library.

"I've been doing lots of things," Charlie added, to ease the curtness of her previous remark.

"Have you?" Beets asked, looking interested, and as though he hadn't taken notice of her curtness.

"Yes. Reading and helping Maria-we made jam," Charlie said.

"I hope I get an opportunity to try it," he said.

Charlie still felt a bit of stiffness that hadn't been present between them before, or at least since she'd been living at Lancer, and she'd

really gotten to know Mr. Beets well.

After lunch, Charlie went with Beets for a walk. He'd suggested it at the table, asking if she would like to take a walk across

the pastures with her.

Charlie didn't particularly want to go walking, but when she was trying to think of a reason to put it off, she realized that

everyone's eyes were on her. Murdoch had lifted his eyebrow. Just slightly, but raised, nonetheless.

Charlie felt her face get warm. In partial embarrassment, and partial wariness. She had no desire to bring Murdoch's

ire down upon herself.

"We can go for a walk," she said, trying to sound more agreeable. After all, she might as well get it over with for the weekend. She

_had_ to talk to the banker at some point. That was part of the arrangement. Part of the reason that he came to Lancer to visit was to

talk to her. Of course, he now enjoyed his visits here for other reasons as well, such as his friendship with Murdoch. But, primarily, it

was to talk to Charlie, so that she didn't have to go into Stockton to the bank for the monthly check-ins.

As they began their walk, away from the house, and out towards the pastures and the pond, there was some silence

between them. The silence was broken by Beets, who sniffed the air in appreciation.

"I believe I smell lavender," he said.

"You do," Charlie told him, pointing to the wild lavender just up ahead of them.

"You certainly don't smell anything that sweet in Stockton," Mr. Beets said, so seriously that Charlie giggled.

Mr. Beets smiled at the sound of that giggle.

"It's true," Charlie said, in agreement, remembering the smell of garbage in the alleys when she'd run through them with the other

street kids.

"I don't imagine that you miss much about Stockton, do you?"

"No. Not much," Charlie said.

"I certainly do enjoy my times when I get to visit here, and leave the city behind for a bit," Mr. Beets said.

After that, he asked if she'd been fishing of late, and she told him about Scott and Johnny teaching her to swim.

"I'm glad of that," he said. "It's important to know how to swim."

"I've been doing lots of school lessons, too," Charlie said, wanting him to know that she was continuing to do school work while

there was a lack of a school teacher.

"That's fine," he said, looking approving.

For a few minutes, Charlie had nearly forgotten that she was feeling peeved at Mr. Beets, and the rest of the bank board. She'd slipped

into the ease of talking with the banker. Now, though, she said, "I can keep up with my lessons just fine here at home, until they

find another teacher," in a less-friendly tone.

Mr. Beets did not appear to notice the sudden change in her voice. He only nodded, and said, "I'm glad that you're working hard. Hopefully

it won't be a long while until another teacher is found."

Charlie studied him covertly. She didn't want to be rude to Mr. Beets. She genuinely had a fondness for the man. But, still, this was

her opportunity to let her wishes be known.

"I want to keep going to the school here," Charlie announced.

"Of course. You have your friends now. I'm sure there'll be another teacher along soon," he said, in a comforting way. Charlie realized

that he thought she meant she wanted to return to school soon. He didn't realize she meant _always. _

Charlie paused in her walking, and, thus, Mr. Beets paused as well. Charlie reached out and pulled the top off a tall weed, and rolled it

around in her hands.

Mr. Beets was waiting, patiently, for her to say whatever it was she had to say.

"I want to tell you something," Charlie began, slowly, "But, I don't want to seem like I'm being disrespectful."

"I'm sure you won't be," he said, quietly.

"Well-I don't want to go to boarding school. Even if it takes a long while to hire another teacher here-I don't want to go away. I'll keep up

with my lessons here, or Scott said we could get a tutor-" Charlie had said all of that without taking a breath, and now she paused, taking in

a long one.

The expression on Mr. Beets face said much. Charlie had poured all her reservations about leaving Lancer and the family behind into that

one, long statement. Though she hadn't spoken specifically the words, her intent was clear enough. At least to Mr. Beets.

"I understand your feelings," he said, carefully, not wanting to be so abrupt as to crush her, but also-not wanting to give false hope.

Too late, for Charlie took what he said, and exclaimed with relief, "Thank you-I'm glad you understand!"

Hastily, Mr. Beets, pressed on. "I know it would be extremely difficult for you to be away from the family, but-perhaps when the time does come,

you'll be more inclined-"

Charlie felt her face get hot, and it had nothing to do with the temperatures of the California afternoon.

"What does that mean? When the times comes?" she demanded, interrupting.

"At some point, in your education, boarding school will need to be discussed," he said.

"Why?" she said, again in a demand, raising her tone. "Why does it have to be discussed?"

"Your grandfather was very specific, about what he wished for you. He felt that you would benefit from attending a fine school, meeting

other girls who are similar in circumstance."

"Well-I think that was ignorant of him," Charlie said, vehemently. "He sounds-as though he was a snob! And-he didn't even know

me! He had no idea at all of what I would be like, or what I would prefer. I think he sounds like a horrible man!"

Mr. Beets looked at her sadly, taking in her flushed cheeks and heaving breaths. He sat down in the grasses, sinking to the position with

an ease of a younger man.

"Charlotte, sit with me," he said. And, as it looked as if Charlie was going to refuse, he added, "Please. I have some things to

say to you."

Charlie took in his tone. It seemed different, somehow. More serious. More focused. Less indulgent.

"I'll be in trouble with Scott-and Murdoch, too, for being rude to you," she said. She felt a smidgen of regret at her sharp words

and raised tone.

"You'll be in no trouble," he reassured her. "I hear strong words, but I don't feel rudeness from you."

Charlie felt a wave of being grateful to him, and she sat down just a bit across from him in the grass, tucking her legs up to her

chin and wrapping her arms around her knees.

"Your grandfather was not a snobbish person. He didn't think himself above anyone else. He was actually the very opposite of that," Mr. Beets

said.

"Did you know him?" Charlie asked, surprised. She hadn't been aware of that, or at least she'd never thought of it before.

"Yes. I did. I met him a few years after he'd discovered gold, and came into his money. It was shortly after you were born-"

After that, Charlie was enthralled. She'd never heard any stories like this before, of her early life.

Beets talked on, saying, "He was a fine man, principled, and-" he paused. "Do you know that meaning?"

"Principled?" Charlie asked, and at his nod, she said, "I think it means having scruples, right?"

"Yes. Having scruples, and high standards," Beets verified. "He wasn't a snobbish sort of person. He never really lost his ways, of what

he was like before he became wealthy. The same simple things caused him to be content. Money didn't change that."

"What did he like to do?" Charlie asked.

"He liked to fish, and he was handy at building things from wood," Beets said. "He'd been extremely poor most of his life."

"He was?"

"Oh, yes. It was a hard row to hoe to provide for his family for most of those years. He did many things, whatever he had to to make

money to provide," Beets said. "He tried his hand at farming, and he was a miner for a few years."

"And he was looking for gold all that time?" Charlie asked.

"Well, no, not all that time," Beets said, and smiled. "That's the interesting part of the story. Harve only searched for gold

on a whim. I believe he said only one or two days at it, and he got lucky."

"Does that happen very often?" Charlie asked, surprised.

"No, not at all," Beets said, with a chuckle. "I would think that it nearly _never_ happens. There's many, many men who spend their

lives searching, and never discover gold." He chuckled again. "He was even using borrowed equipment to search with."

Charlie hugged her knees up tighter to her chest. "I never knew all of those things about him. My mother didn't talk about him. At least,

not that I remember." She thought back to those early days with her mother, in the big house, with the yellow and gold wallpaper. Sometimes, it seemed

as though her memories were fading like the sun at dusk. She tried to bring her mother's face into focus in her mind.

"Did you know my grandmother, too?" she asked.

"No. She had passed away many years before I met Harve."

"But, you knew my mother?"

"I did," Beets said, with a nod. "She was lovely. A very gentle spirit."

"Ladylike?" Charlie asked.

"Yes, she was. Very quiet."

"I don't think I'm very much like her," Charlie said, sounding regretful.

"Why do you say that?"

"I'm not really quiet, and I'm _not_ ladylike. Not at all."

"I think you're more like your mother that you believe. In important ways. You're a gentle spirit, Charlotte, just as she was. You care

deeply for others. Such as when you met your friend, Burl. From what I understand, you befriended him when many others would not," Beets

said.

"Thank you," Charlie told him, feeling a bit embarrassed by the praise.

There was a few minutes of quiet, and then Charlie returned to the previous topic.

"I don't want to have to go away to boarding school. I still think that my grandfather shouldn't have left all those rules for me," she persisted.

"His reasoning was this-he knew that your mother wasn't well, even early on. He knew that there was a possibility that you would need

another caretaker-someone else to finish raising you-so he didn't want that person to have so much control that they might misuse

the funds, or not do what was the right thing for you. So, he implemented guidelines, so that you would be best protected."

For the first time, Charlie had a more clear understanding of why her mysterious grandfather had done some of the things

he had. He'd wanted to protect her-to ensure that whomever raised her made certain that she had advantages and that that person

also had to abide by certain restrictions.

_Still,_ though-

"Katherine didn't stay in those guidelines very well," Charlie said.

Mr. Beets regarded her somberly. "Are you referring to what you believe about her having you for the funds she received?"

"It's _true,_ Mr. Beets," Charlie said, not disrespectfully, but still strongly.

"Ah, well, we won't debate that particular point, Charlotte. I am extremely sorry, though, that you spent so much time feeling that

way. That you were made to feel that way by Katherine."

"That's why it's so different with Scott and me," Charlie said. "He didn't take me on because of any money. And, even when he heard

about the money, he _still_ didn't care. He's had me all this time, for _months,_ and he hasn't taken _anything _from the trust fund."

"Scott's a fine man, that's for certain," Mr. Beets said. "I haven't met many that were any finer than he."

"I know," Charlie said, and hugged her knees again. "I think if my grandfather had known Scott, then he would realized he didn't

need to have all the rules and guidelines. Scott thinks education is real important, he's always saying that to me-and he makes me

do lessons and keep up on things, even when I fuss about it. But, he doesn't want me to go away to boarding school, _ever._ He told me so."

This last bit of the announcement was said with great pride and a triumphant air on Charlie's part.

"Oh, yes, I'm aware, Charlotte," Mr. Beets said, almost as if he was speaking carelessly, with a small laugh, and then he caught himself.

Charlie regarded him, curiously, wondering what he meant by that.

Mr. Beets had the look of a man who'd been _found out._

"I've a bit of a confession to make," the older man said, with a slight smile. "Scott has been championing for the right to make the decision himself

about your future schooling. He has made it extremely clear to everyone on the bank board that he doesn't want you going away for your

studies."

Charlie felt a nearly overwhelming sense of gladness swell over her. "He has?" she asked, in a breathless way.

"He has." Mr. Beets paused, and leaned forward a bit, as if sharing more secret information. "Shall I tell you something else?"

At Charlie's nod, Mr. Beets continued, "You were actually set to go away to boarding school at the beginning of this term. That's why

Katherine was looking into those boarding schools in Colorado." He waved a hand. "That was wrong of her to have looked at ones with such a distance,

but the point is-you would have been boarding somewhere by now already, if it hadn't been for Scott."

Charlie wrinkled her forehead in question. "What do you mean?"

"Scott was very decisive about it. He said there was not any advantage to you going away at this time, and that he absolutely would

not condone it."

"He did?" Charlie asked.

"He did, indeed."

Charlie felt her emotions get the best of her, and tears filled her eyes. Normally, she would be embarrassed about tearing up and

sniffling, like some big _baby._ But, right now, for some reason, she wasn't embarrassed. She felt only a sense of being grateful, protected.

"Do you mind if we head back now?" she asked Mr. Beets, standing and brushing off the seat of her overalls.

"No. Of course not," Beets said, as he stood, as well.

Charlie met his gaze, not caring if he saw the tears in her eyes. "I sort of-I want to find Scott."

Beets nodded, and Charlie didn't add that she wanted to not only search Scott out, wherever he was working at on the ranch,

but also she wanted to wrap her arms around his middle, and squeeze as tightly as she could.

'**L**


	27. Interactions

It wasn't all that difficult for Charlie to locate Scott. He was knee deep in mud near the creek, tugging a calf out of the muck,

so it could rejoin its bawling mother. When Beets and she had reached the house after their walk, Charlie asked Murdoch

which general direction Scott might be, and he gave permission for her to ride her horse that way.

Charlie rode up, and slid down from Gurth's back, standing holding the reins and watching Scott work his way thru

the mud to reach the calf.

"Can I help?" she called out to him, starting down the small incline.

"Stay up there," Scott called back. "Don't come into the high grass. I've seen two snakes just while I've been here."

"Oh," Charlie said, and stopped walking immediately, darting a wary look at her feet and the area around them.

Plucked from the mud, Scott carried the small, black calf up the incline and set him down. Startled by being stuck, and then

carried, the calf did not immediately run to freedom, but stood, as if unsure.

"What's wrong with him?" Charlie asked, as the mother cow continued to moo.

"He's just trying to get his bearings back," Scott said, pulling off his gloves, and slapping them against his leg, making bits

of mud fly.

A few moments later, after the mother cow continued to call out, the calf scampered to her, and Charlie looked up at Scott, relieved.'re

"I'm glad he's okay," Charlie said. "Why'd he go into the mud that way, anyway?"

"Just like any other young one, animal or human, he's curious, and doesn't always think about consequences," Scott said.

Beside the horses, Scott pushed his hat up further on his forehead. "Did you have your walk with Beets?"

Charlie nodded, and then hesitated, before saying, "Mr. Beets told me that you're the reason I haven't had to go away to

be boarded for school."

"He did, huh?" Scott said.

Charlie nodded again, looking at him seriously. "Thank you," she said, softly.

Scott paused, his reins in one hand, and with his other hand, he ran his finger down one of her cheeks, and ended with a tap on her nose.

"You don't have to thank me," he said, and then added, "But-you're welcome." He gave her a slight smile.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Charlie asked. "I mean-I threw such a fit about it-" she let her voice trail off, looking regretful.

"Well-it doesn't mean that you're _never_ going to have to go," he said.

"I know," she said, still sounding regretful. "But-it helps to know that you've done what you have-" she hesitated, and then said,

feeling emotional, "It helps _a whole lot,_ Scott."

Recognizing her expression of emotion, and what was behind it, Scott regarded her solemnly for a moment and then put his

arm around her shoulders.

"I'm glad," he said, simply, as Charlie turned, hugging him around his waist.

"I've got to get back to work," Scott said. "So I'll get in in time to get cleaned up for the company that's coming tonight."

"Oh, I forgot about that," Charlie said. She made a face. "And Lucy's coming. I don't see why Teresa had to invite them."

"She invited them because they've been friends of she and Murdoch's for years," Scott said. "And, you can be gracious about

Lucy being here. Can't you?" he asked pointedly.

"Yes," Charlie said, not because she particularly wanted to, but because she knew it's how he expected her to respond.

They mounted their horses, and then, before they set out riding, Scott said, "Miss Lyons is coming tonight, as well. She and her

sister are riding out Val."

"Oh," Charlie said. She wasn't sure what she thought about _that._ Scott had explained it all to her very well, and said that he

didn't believe he felt the _marrying_ sort of love for Hallie Lyons. Still, though-

"I thought you might like to meet her," Scott went on.

Charlie met his gaze, and nodded, and Scott, apparently satisfied with that response, began riding back, Charlie riding beside him.

Charlie spent the remainder of her day helping Maria prepare some of the food for the evening ahead. Her mind was on Hallie Lyons,

and Lucy Stone, and wondering if she could get by with wearing a clean pair of overalls, instead of a dress, and her hand slipped a bit, and the knife she was

using to chop the vegetables cut the tip of her finger.

Immediately, blood began to spurt out, and Charlie sucked in her breath, causing Maria immediately to take notice.

"_Tener compasion,"_ Maria said, and directed Charlie to the pump where she began letting water pour over the cut finger.

"It's alright," Charlie told her. She told the older woman that several times, in fact, but Maria paid her no mind. The smell of the cookies

in the oven became stronger, as though they were beginning to get crisp. Johnny came into the midst of that, as Maria left Charlie to

go to the stove to retrieve the cookies.

"What'd you do?" he asked Charlie, as Maria began giving directions for Charlie to use soap to wash.

"Just cut my finger a little," Charlie said, as Johnny took her hand in his to take a look.

"_Jabon,"_ Maria said, setting down the crispy cookies.

"Wash up," Johnny told Charlie, and she obediently used some of the strong soap Maria kept setting there by the sink.

Once she'd washed, Johnny handed her towel.

"_Todavia sangrando?"_ Maria asked.

Johnny answered her with words that Charlie didn't understand any more than she had Maria's query.

"Come on, pequeno," he told her, and Charlie followed him from the kitchen, and into the library, where he hoisted her up to

sit on Murdoch's desk, and opened the small white box he'd carried with him from the kitchen.

"What's in there?" Charlie asked.

"Instruments to sew a severed finger back in place," Johnny replied, and then laughed at the look of horror

on Charlie's face.

"Naw, just some ointment and bandages," he amended.

"Oh," Charlie said, relieved.

Johnny smeared ointment on her finger, and then proceeded to bandage it, with a speed and efficiency that impressed Charlie.

"You're good at bandaging," Charlie said.

"I've had a lot of practice," Johnny said.

Charlie eyed his curiously, and asked, "On yourself?"

"Sometimes," he said, continuing to wrap her finger.

"Have you been shot before?"

Johnny flicked a gaze over her and said, shortly, "Yeah. I have." He finished and closed up the small box, patting her knee.

"There ya go. You're gonna have to wash that every day, and then put some of that ointment on it. Make sure one of us keeps an

eye on it, so it doesn't get infected."

"Okay," Charlie said, inspecting her bandaged finger.

"Will you tell me about it?" she asked, as she slid down from the desk to stand beside him.

"Tell ya about what?"

"About bein' shot," Charlie said.

Johnny regarded her steadily for a long moment, and then said, quietly, "No, pequeno. I won't."

"How come?" Charlie asked.

"Because there's no reason that I can see, that you would need to know anything about any of that." His tone was stern, not teasing

or bantering as was usual.

Charlie squirmed under his blue-eyed gaze. She found she disliked it quite strongly when Johnny was stern with her.

She remembered, _too late,_ what Teresa had told her about how Johnny didn't like talking about his past life all that much.

Immediately, she felt remorseful. "I shouldn't have asked you," she admitted, and asked with trepidation, "Are you mad at me for

askin'?"

"No, I'm not mad at ya," he said. "As long as you take 'no' for an answer, and don't pester me about it. Can ya do that?"

"Yes, Johnny," Charlie said, feeling humbled by the '_almost scolding'._

"Alright," he said, and tapped her nose with one finger, and handed her the small medicine kit. "Here. Take this back to the kitchen, will ya?"

"Yes." Charlie shifted the kit from one hand to the other. As he was turning to head out of the room, Charlie said,

"Scott says that Hallie Lyons is coming tonight."

"Seems like I heard about that," Johnny said, pausing to look at her again.

"Yeah," Charlie said, and there was much, _much,_ in that one word.

"I figure if she's a friend of Scott's, then she must be real nice," he said, comfortingly.

Charlie nodded. "Yeah," she said, again.

"Don't borrow trouble, pequeno," Johnny said, then.

"What does that mean?" she asked him, earnestly.

"It means-well, not to worry about somethin' before it's actually time to worry about it," he said.

"Oh."

"You know-you have any questions about somethin', you can ask Scott about it. You know that, right?" Johnny asked.

Charlie nodded, and Johnny tapped her nose again.

"Back to work," he said.

**L**


	28. Supper

When it came to be time, Charlie took her own turn in the bathtub, scrubbing her skin and her hair. Teresa came in, as she

sometimes did, to rinse Charlie's auburn curls.

Brushing the now-rinsed hair out of her eyes, Charlie leaned back into the still-warm water to survey the older girl, as she

began picking up, and rehanging towels off of the floor.

"Teresa?" Charlie said, tentatively.

"What?"

"Why didn't Murdoch adopt you? Did you not want him to?"

Teresa turned, in obvious surprise at the question. "That's a question, for sure," she said.

Charlie waited, and Teresa said, slowly, "We discussed it a few times."

"You and Murdoch?"

At Teresa's nod, Charlie pressed on. "Did he want to?"

"He was willing to, if it was something that I wanted."

"But, you didn't want him to?" Charlie asked.

Teresa hesitated, and then sat down on the edge of the bathtub, the damp towels still in her arms. "It wasn't that I didn't _want_ him to-it

was more complicated than that-"

"Why was it more complicated?" Charlie asked.

Again, Teresa hesitated, before continuing. "I was a bit older-I was almost fifteen when my father died. I knew I had a home here,

at Lancer, with Murdoch. I-well, I was content with the way things were. Being under Murdoch's protection and care, without going thru an

actual adoption."

"Oh," Charlie said, considering all of that.

Teresa looked at Charlie, contemplatively. "What brought that question on?" she asked.

"I was just wondering about it, is all."

"Oh," Teresa said, sensing more under the surface of the explanation. "Well-there was also my mother thrown into the mix-I mean, she was

still alive-"

"Would she not have wanted you to be adopted?" Charlie asked.

"It wasn't anything like that," Teresa said. "She was never really like a mother to me. I think, if Murdoch and I had asked, and

pressed her a bit, that she would likely have given her permission."

"Oh," Charlie said, and regarded Teresa with regret in her own brown eyes. "Does that make you feel badly?"

"That she wouldn't have resisted letting me go, you mean?" Teresa asked.

At Charlie's nod, Teresa said, "Well, not really. I knew by that time where I stood with her. She wasn't motherly material, really. I'd had

so little to do with her for so many years that I didn't miss her _too_ much. I missed having a mother _figure,_ but not her specifically." She

studied Charlie and asked, "Does that make sense?"

Charlie gave another nod.

"I always, _always,_ knew how it was with Murdoch and I," Teresa said. "He was present for me in every way, and he filled the role

of father to me. He still does, every day. I know he loves me."

"I'm glad that you had him," Charlie said, with sincerity.

"So am I," Teresa said, fervently. "Without _him,_ well, I don't know what would have happened to me. Someone else in town might

have stepped in to take me on, but it wouldn't have been like it has been here, at Lancer. I mightn't have been part of a real family

unit. I might have been included, but not really _accepted,_ and not _loved."_

Charlie bobbed her head in understanding.

"Is there another reason you're asking me this?" Teresa asked.

"I just like hearing about it," Charlie said, simply.

"Alright," Teresa said, and readjusted the towels she held. "I thought, maybe, that you were thinking of you and Scott."

Charlie began to deny it, to shake her head, but then she paused, and lifted her shoulders in a shrug.

"Sometimes-I think it would be sort of nice to be adopted," she admitted.

"What do you think it would change, if you were?" Teresa asked, softly.

"I don't know. Sometimes I get sort of scared."

"Charlie, Scott's not going to _stop_ being your guardian. I know that for a certainty. You're as much a part of this family as

_any_ of us," Teresa assured her in a definite way.

When Charlie was silent, Teresa prodded a bit. "Do you not feel that way? Because, I _know_ if you don't, that Scott will want to talk

to you about it, and Murdoch will, as well."

"No," Charlie shook her head. "It's not that I feel that way. I feel a part of everything."

"Are you sure? Because-"

"I'm _sure._ I just wondered about you, that's all."

"Okay," Teresa said, yet it seemed to her as if she shouldn't end the conversation. It seemed unfinished, somehow.

"Do you think my yellow dress is nice enough for tonight?" Charlie asked, in an abrupt change of subject. "I don't feel like wearing

a bunch of frills and lace."

"I think your yellow dress is fine," Teresa said. "Or maybe your blue would be better."

Charlie made a face.

**L**

Dressed in the aforementioned yellow dress, and with her hair done in a long braid down her back, Charlie helped set the long

table in the dining room with the pale blue china, and then went upstairs. Working her way down the long carpeted hallway, she

saw Scott's open door, and headed that way.

She paused in the open doorway, peeking in, where she saw Scott standing in front of his tall dresser, buttoning up

a pristine white shirt.

"Hi," Charlie said, to alert him to her presence.

"Hey, kiddo. Come in."

Charlie entered the room, and went to sit on the edge of the bed, watching him as he finished buttoning his shirt, and began

rifling through his ties.

He turned, holding a tie in each hand. "What do you think?" he asked Charlie. "Which one?"

"That one," Charlie said, pointing to the light brown tie in his right hand.

"This one it is, then," he said, rehanging the other tie.

As he began tying the tie, Scott gave her an approving appraisal. "You look nice," he said, simply. "Real pretty."

"Thank you. Teresa thought I should wear my blue dress, but I thought-" Charlie hesitated, realizing that she was rambling. "I thought

this one would be alright."

"I think it's a fine choice," Scott said.

He turned back to the mirror, to finish tying his tie.

"There's gonna be a lot of people here tonight," Charlie said.

"It sounds like it," he said, in agreement. "Parties have a way of growing once they begin being planned."

"I wish I could have asked Rebecca to come," Charlie said, longingly.

Scott looked at her reflection in the mirror. "I didn't think of that."

"Would you have let me?"

"Sure. If her parents agreed, it would have been fine."

Charlie sighed. "Maybe next time."

"You don't need to wait until there's a party to invite Rebecca here. She's welcome to come anytime."

"Anytime?"

"Well, anytime that works for all of us," Scott amended.

"Okay," Charlie said, brightening a bit. "That would be fun. I miss her."

"Remind me mid-week, and we'll see what we can arrange," he said.

"Alright," Charlie agreed, smiling at his reflection.

She paused, trying to gather up her nerve. "I was wondering something," she began.

"What were you wondering?" he asked.

"About Miss Lyons."

Scott turned to face her, tucking his shirt into the waistband of his pants. "What about her?"

"If she's coming tonight because you enjoy her company still, or if you've changed your mind-about things."

Scott was quiet a moment, and then he came over to sit down beside her on the edge of the bed.

"She's coming because I enjoy her company still, and because she's in town visiting her sister. And also because I thought

it would be nice for her to meet some more people from the area," he said.

Charlie studied his face intently. "Oh."

"What did you think I might have changed my mind about?" he asked, kindly.

Charlie shrugged, and looked away then, down at her fingernails. "It wasn't anything," she said.

"Hey," Scott said, sounding firm, and Charlie looked at him, again.

"Don't do that," he said. "Don't have a question, or a concern, and then claim that it's not important. If it's important enough

to worry you, then it's important to me."

"Okay," Charlie said.

"So ask me, then," he said, his tone softer.

"I wondered if you were still feeling like it's not the _forever_ sort of love about Miss Lyons," Charlie admitted.

"I'm still feeling that way," Scott affirmed.

"Okay," Charlie said, again.

For a long few moments their gazes met, and neither one spoke.

"I'm sorry," she said, finally.

"What for?" he asked, looking surprised.

Charlie shrugged, and nearly repeated her earlier statement of 'it's not anything', but hastily caught herself.

"Sometimes I get a little nervous," she admitted. "About you and me, I mean."

Scott looked genuinely perplexed, and a bit troubled. "Why?"

"I just-I don't want things to change from the way that they are."

At the furrowing of his brow in confusion, Charlie said, "I want to stay here. With you, and everybody else." She dropped her

eyes to her hands in her lap again. "I don't want to ever leave."

After a moment's silence, Scott asked, "Are you talking about boarding school again? Because-"

Charlie shook her head vigorously, in interruption. "No. I mean-_leave,_ like to go somewhere else to live, with other people." She looked up at

him again.

Suddenly comprehending what she was brokenly attempting to share with him, Scott felt foolish.

"Come here," he said, and tugged her up, resettling her on his knee.

"Look at me," he ordered, and when he had her full attention, he said, his voice strong, "Nobody nor nothing will change

the way I feel about you, kiddo. I'm not going to change my mind about being your guardian, either. You and I-we're in it for

the long haul. Together."

Charlie felt tears bubbling at the surface. "A team," she said, repeating something he'd said to her once before.

"You bet. Partners." There was a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth.

Charlie nodded, rubbing at her cheek.

"Lancer's your _home,_ kiddo," Scott said, earnestly. He studied her face, thinking her expression still seemed pensive. "If you get to

feeling unsure of things, I want you to remember that. Alright?"

Charlie nodded again, and then, after a few moments of quiet, Scott said, "Ready to go down? People are going to start

arriving soon."

**L**

When Val and his lady friend arrived, accompanied by Miss Lyons herself, Charlie was busy helping Teresa to carry trays around

the room, offering appetizers that Maria had prepared. Scott, who'd been talking with Mr. Beets, and another neighbor, (a rancher whose

name Charlie could never remember), beckoned to her.

Charlie went over to the group, still holding the tray in her hands.

Scott immediately put his arm out, and rested a hand on the waist of her yellow dress. "This is Charlie," he said, and Charlie thought she

heard a touch of pride in his voice. "Charlie, this is Miss Clarice Lyons, and Miss Hallie Lyons."

The taller of the two women, the one that Scott had introduced as the sister, Clarice, spoke first, nodding at Charlie in a friendly

way, while she held onto Val's arm with both hands looped together.

"Hello," she said, with a smile.

Charlie nodded in return, and said, "Hello."

Hallie Lyons, meanwhile, was extending her hand. "Hello, Charlie. It's very nice to meet you."

Charlie managed to balance the tray, and shake hands. "Hullo," she said, in answer. She thought she should add that it was nice

to meet Hallie, as well, but, besides feeling a bit shy, Charlie thought she might reserve her judgement on whether it was _actually_

very nice to meet her, or not.

Hallie had no such reservations about conversation, apparently. She promptly led into with, "Scott says you're learning to

swim, I think that's just fine. I never learned, can you believe that? As old as I am, and I'm as helpless as a kitten when it comes to

the water! Are you enjoying learning?"

A bit surprised at the effervescent manner of speaking, Charlie said only that yes, she was enjoying learning to swim very much.

"That's good, then, that you won't end up like me," Miss Hallie Lyons said, with a smile. Then she turned her attentions to Scott, asking

him to point out which person was Mrs. Stone.

"I told Clarice that we should talk to her-I hear she's just a wonder with fundraising-and we've been thinking about that library

project, you remember that? Introduce me, Scott, will you? Come along, Clarice. Charlie, we'll talk some more later," Hallie said, taking Scott's arm in hers.

Clarice gave Val a smile and released his arm, preparing to follow her chattering sister across the room.

Left there, with Val, Charlie watched as the trio joined Mr. and Mrs. Stone, and Hallie continued her chattering, waving her

hands around for emphasis. Scott, from his position across the room, met Charlie's eyes, and gave her a quick wink.

Charlie couldn't help smiling back at him. It made her feel warm, somehow, and connected, when he did that.

"Shall I help myself?" Val asked Charlie, with a raised eyebrow, half jokingly, his hand hovering over the tray of food.

"Yes. Sure," Charlie said, holding the tray up higher to him.

Val took a cinnamon crepe from the tray and bit into it, licking his lips with relish. "Maria's outdone herself, yet again," he said, in appreciation.

His next words surprised Charlie a bit. "Well, Miss Charlotte, what do you think?"

Looking up at him, Charlie got his point. He meant Hallie Lyons. "She seems nice," she said, a bit hesitant.

"Talkative, though, huh?" Val said, looking amused.

At her nod, he said, "Well, she is that, but she's a nice girl. I reckon you'd like her fine if you got to know her."

"Scott says she's only just a friend," Charlie said, thinking that Val must not understand the way that things were.

At that, Val's gaze seemed to study her more intently. "Nothing wrong with that. Is there?"

"No."

"Everybody deserves friends, Charlie. Including Scott," Val said, and Charlie blinked at him, puzzled, and then wary.

"What do you mean?" she asked Val.

"Just that having friends is mighty important," Val said.

Charlie frowned at him. "I know that," she said, feeling peevish.

"That's good," Val said, taking another sweet from the tray.

Still puzzled a bit, Charlie was about to ask him more, when he tweaked her nose, and said, "I think I'll get myself a

whiskey." He moved to go, then paused. "Just remember, J.C., Scott's proud as punch of you."

Charlie was still feeling off-balance a bit, when she took the empty tray to the kitchen. Maria was washing dishes, and, wordlessy,

Charlie went to retrieve her own apron, made by Maria for her birthday, and tied it on, beginning to dry the dishes

in the rack.

"Esta la fiesta," Maria said. _Party._

Charlie shrugged, and shook her head, conveying without words that she preferred the kitchen just then.

Maria said no more, and they worked in companionable silence, until Teresa came rustling in, the folds of her new

dress swishing together.

"There you are," she said, sounding exasperated. "Come and talk to Lucy."

"I'd just as soon _not,"_ Charlie said.

"Charlie, please, you said you would help to entertain her-"

"No, I never said that," Charlie denied. "Not _once_ did I say that."

"Well-will you, please? She's making it very plain that she's unhappy, and not having a good time-"

"I don't care," Charlie said.

Teresa blew upwards at her bangs in frustration. "Charlie, _please." _

Maria reached out a soapy hand, and undid the tied knot of Charlie's apron. She gave a nod towards the outer rooms, where

the noise of all the guests rang out. "Anda tu. _Go,"_ she said, firmly.

Charlie sighed, and followed a triumphant Teresa, back to the gathering.

"There she is," Murdoch's voice rang out. He was standing beside Mr. Beets and Mr. Stone, while Lucy was sitting nearby, kicking

her feet against the legs of the chair. She had on what Charlie thought of as her _permanent petulant_ expression. She was, quite obviously,

unhappy. Pouting.

At the sight of Charlie, Lucy's expression changed somewhat, not a huge amount, but some.

Charlie had gone to stand beside Murdoch, and he put a hand at her back.

"Can we go and find something fun to do?" Lucy asked, addressing herself to Charlie.

"Umm," Charlie said, hesitating and thinking quickly.

She was saved from having to respond by Murdoch's next comment. "We'll be going in to eat in a few minutes. Perhaps, then, after

the meal, you girls can spend time together."

"I've been sitting here _forever,"_ Lucy said, obviously not happy about Murdoch's declaration. "So I guess I'll still sit here

even _longer,_ then."

Used to Lucy's petulant ways, Charlie wasn't surprised by that, but Murdoch obviously was, because Charlie saw one dark eyebrow

raise in disapproval.

"I'm certain that you'll survive, young lady," Murdoch told Lucy. And, though Charlie thought Mr. Stone was looking a bit embarrassed,

Lucy didn't appear daunted at all.

"I'm thirsty, Daddy," she announced, abruptly.

"Well, go on along and find yourself a drink, then," Mr. Stone said, with a wave of his hand.

That he was relieved to be rid of Lucy, even momentarily, was evident. Lucy stood up, and straightened her dress.

"Charlie, will you show me?" she asked.

Charlie swung a look up at Murdoch, who nodded briefly. "You can get Lucy some lemonade," he said. "But don't wander too

far." That was plainly meant for a reminder for Lucy, that the meal was going to be served shortly.

Once they were out of hearing range, Lucy took the glass of lemonade from the many that were set out on the folding table. She

took a long drink, and then rattled the ice in the glass.

"Let's go outside," she said. "I want to tell you something."

"It's nearly time to eat," Charlie said.

"We'll come back," Lucy said, waving a hand.

Once they were outside, under the darkened sky, Lucy took a deep breath. "It's too stuffy in there," she complained.

"Uh huh," Charlie said.

"Let's go swing on your swing," Lucy said, starting to walk in the direction of the tree with the swing.

So, for the next few minutes, that's what the girls did, and Lucy even took turns without fussing. Charlie was even having fun.

In the midst of Charlie pumping herself high into the air, Lucy said, "My mother says it should be a double wedding."

"What should be?" Charlie asked.

"Scott and the one sister, and the sheriff and the other sister. My mother said they're getting long in the tooth to be getting married. I think

that means old, doesn't it?"

Charlie stopped pumping her legs, letting the swing slow down.

"Scott's not getting married," she corrected Lucy, trying to keep her temper.

"He's not?"

"No," Charlie said, firmly. "He's not."

"Oh," Lucy said, and then shrugged her shoulders slightly.

Charlie put her foot down, dragging it in the dirt to stop the swing.

"Your mother is wrong," Charlie said, even more firmly.

Instead of seeming annoyed by the criticism of her mother, Lucy simply shrugged again. "She probably is. She likes to gossip."

Since Lucy was being so nice about it, Charlie tried to explain. "Scott would tell me if he was thinking about marriage. To anybody. And, he's

not even feeling that way about Miss Lyons. He thinks of her as a friend."

"Oh," Lucy said, again. "Well-do you think maybe he's just telling you that, but it's not really the way of it? Maybe he's really in love with

that Miss Lyons. She is awfully pretty."

"He's not-and besides, he wouldn't lie to me," Charlie said.

"All grown-ups lie to children," Lucy scoffed. "They tell you things so you won't raise up a fuss about something."

"Some grownups," Charlie said, thinking of Katherine. "But, not all."

The two girls sat down next to each other on the iron bench.

"Do you really like living here?" Lucy asked.

"I love living here."

"Isn't that Mr. Lancer sort of-well, he seems as though he could be real mean," Lucy said.

"Scott? He's never mean-"

"Not him. The older one."

"Oh. Murdoch. No, he's not mean," Charlie said. "He's sort of gruff sometimes. But, he's real kind."

"Well, since you don't have any folks of your own, are you going to stay here until you're grown up?"

"The Lancers are my family," Charlie said, standing up. She was tired of the conversation. "And, I'm going to stay here all my life. I'm going

to help run this ranch."

A strong voice was calling out. Her name came across the wind.

"They're calling us," she said, and the girls walked towards the house.

Murdoch was standing near the front door, as they walked up. "We've been looking for you two," he said, looking stern. "Supper's on

the table."

"We were at the swing," Charlie explained.

"Well, come in. Everyone's waiting," Murdoch said, as the girls passed in front of him, and he closed the door.

Lucy's mother and Scott came walking to the foyer.

"There you are," she said, smoothing back Lucy's hair. "We were looking all over for you."

"We had to have _something_ to do, Mother," Lucy said, her tone curt.

"Of course, darling," Mrs. Stone said.

"Then don't pester me," Lucy said, and walked off, her mother following.

Into the sudden, surprised silence, Charlie looked at Scott, and then Murdoch.

"She's quite a young lady," Scott said, and from his tone it was obvious it was not meant as a compliment.

"That she is," Murdoch added.

**L**


	29. Lights of Lanterns

The table was full of seated guests, and the food had been brought in before the guests took their seats. Platters of roast beef and and oven

roasted baby red potatoes were passed from person to person. Lucy was seated between her mother and father, and even from her

spot just across the table and down a bit, Charlie could hear her complaints. The meat was too salty, she complained, and she

didn't want so many vegetables. Charlie had been seated next to Johnny, with the neighboring rancher's wife sitting on the other side.

Charlie, who thought that the roast beef was just _fine,_ not too salty at all, ate her meal, answering Mrs. Wilson's frequent questions.

_Did Charlie enjoy living at Lancer?_

_ Was she staying busy during her time off of school?_

_ Had she helped to prepare any of the food for the evening meal?_

It had been a long, busy day, and Charlie enjoyed her meal immensely. She was finishing her milk when she saw Lucy attempting

to catch her eye from across the table.

Lucy pointed to the front entryway, and Charlie could tell she wanted to go back outside. No one else had risen from their

chairs as yet, as some were still eating, and others, sipping drinks and visiting. She shook her head slightly at Lucy, and

Lucy pouted.

It was a few minutes later, when others were starting to get to their feet, pushing in their chairs, and preparing to head to the sitting

room. Lucy was at Charlie's elbow, impatient.

"Let's go outside," she said.

"I have to help take the dishes to the kitchen," Charlie said.

"I'm sure it's alright if you head on out," Johnny said, as Charlie looked up at him.

"Let's go," Lucy said, tugging on Charlie's arm.

"Okay," Charlie said, feeling that if Johnny said it was alright, then it would be.

"I want to look at that big horse," Lucy was saying, as Charlie scooted up her own chair.

Before Charlie could respond, Johnny said, "No goin' near the horses."

Lucy blinked at him, plainly surprised. "Why not?" she asked.

"Because it's not safe. The horses don't know you," Johnny said, mildly. "And that big one is a stallion that's not all that friendly just yet."

Lucy, being Lucy, continued her objections. "I just want to look at them for a minute. That won't hurt anything."

"The horses are off-limits," Johnny said, his tone still mild, but Charlie heard the steel underneath, and wondered if Lucy

heard it, too.

Lucy took him in, her eyes wide, and then she gave a slight shrug, as if she was unbothered.

"Come on," she said, to Charlie, and turned to flounce away.

Charlie took another peek up at Johnny, who was looking after Lucy with a slightly bemused expression on his face.

"_Dios bendito," _ Johnny said, under his breath.

Charlie wasn't certain what that would translate to in English, but she had a few thoughts on it.

"Lucy's not used to listening very much," Charlie said, quietly.

"Hmm," was all that Johnny said, and then he added, in a low tone, "You hightail it in here to tell me if she goes near that corral, pequeno."

"Yes, okay," Charlie agreed, and went outside, where the dusk was settling in.

Lucy leaped out from the shadows, intent upon frightening Charlie.

Then she reverted to her pouting. "He's mean," she grumbled.

"Who? Johnny?" Charlie asked, instantly on defense. "He's not."

"Yes. I only wanted to look at that stupid horse. That's not going to do any harm, just to look at him."

"He's not gentled yet," Charlie tried to explain.

"So, nobody is even allowed to _look_ at him?" Lucy said, huffily.

"Let's go swing again," Charlie suggested.

"I don't want to-I'm tired of that. Let's do something else."

Charlie searched in her mind for an idea, something to entertain Lucy, though, truthfully, she would just as soon _not_

have been taxed with the job.

"We can go up to my bedroom, and draw," she suggested. "I have a lot of drawing supplies."

"No," Lucy refused. "Let's-go for a walk."

"Well, okay, but we can't go very far," Charlie said.

So they walked, the pups barking from where they'd been penned, so as to keep them from jumping all over

the guests.

They walked until Charlie, looking backwards, realized how far they'd gone from the house.

"Okay, let's head back," she said.

Lucy, who'd been chattering about the possibility of a new teacher coming, and about how blue Calvin Jenkin's (a boy at school) eyes were,

said, "O, why do we have to? This is the most fun it's been all evening."

"They'll worry, if they look and can't find us right off," Charlie said.

"I don't care," Lucy said, peeved.

"You don't care if your mother is worried?" Charlie asked.

"She's too busy gossiping to worry about me," Lucy said. "Come on." She moved to continue walking, but Charlie stood

still.

"I'm not going any further," Charlie said, stubbornly. "We're already a far ways from the house. We didn't tell them we were

going walking. They wouldn't know where to look."

"So?" Lucy countered. And then, "You're mean, and hateful! I'm your guest and you're supposed to do what I want to do!"

"I'm going back to the house," Charlie said, and turned to start walking back. She was so aggravated with the other girl that at first

she was just stomping, intent on getting back before any adults discovered they weren't nearby. She didn't relish the idea of a scolding.

When she didn't hear Lucy following behind her, Charlie slowed her steps a bit, listening, and then stopped, turning around.

Lucy was, not only _not_ following, but she was nowhere that Charlie could see, at all. Charlie peered down the expanse of road, and then

into the side fields, but the dusk was making it hard to see everywhere.

"Lucy!" Charlie called out.

When there was no response, not even a whisper on the wind, Charlie called out again, furiously.

Still, no answer. No rustling in the fields. Charlie wrinkled her forehead. There were only one or two spots where Lucy might have

gotten to, so quickly. There was the boulders just to the east, and, other than that, lying down on the ground would be the only way

to successfully hide. Charlie was fairly certain that Lucy was too prissy to lay on the ground, getting her dress mussed or dirty. That left

the boulders. Debating on what to do, Charlie made the quick decision and went to the boulders. She tried to keep her steps quiet

as she went, for the element of surprise. But, Lucy was nowhere around the big rocks. Charlie did a second turn around them, just to be

sure.

"Lucy!" she called out, again. "This isn't funny! It's gonna be really dark soon! Come on!"

Nothing.

Charlie gave what would be, to most other kids, the ultimate of threats. "I'm gonna go and tell your folks!"

When there was only stillness as an answer again, Charlie thought that she shouldn't be surprised. After all, Lucy had no reason

to fear that particular threat.

A prickling of unease swept over Charlie. Lucy was being a goose, a pain, but still-

So, she ran back the way they'd come, and stopped, breathless, outside the front door. Thinking of it, she went to look out near

the swing, and also near the corral. No Lucy.

"Well, you brought this on yourself," Charlie muttered, and slipped inside the house. There were folks everywhere, talking, and

holding drinks. Not seeing Lucy's parents right off, Charlie was relieved. She didn't want them asking where their precious princess was

at just yet. She knew who she was scouting for. And, she found him.

He was sitting at one of the tables, talking to Val, a tumbler of amber-colored liquid in his hand.

Charlie clutched at his empty hand. "Come outside. Please."

Instantly, Johnny's expression hardened. "Is she out by the corral?" he demanded.

"No," Charlie said, shaking her head. She leaned closer and whispered in his ear.

Johnny gave her an incredulous look, but got to his feet.

"I'll be back," he said, to Val.

Outside, Johnny pulled the door closed behind them, and said, "Where was she last?"

"Up there," Charlie said, pointing.

"Alright. Show me," Johnny said, with a sigh.

They walked what Charlie thought was the same distance. "Here," she said. "I told her I was going back to the house, and she

said she didn't want to-and so I started walking, and then when I looked for her, she was gone."

"Hmm," Johnny said, looking about, as if in thought. "Should have brought a lantern," he said.

"Do you want me to get one?"

"Not yet. You looked by the boulders, you say?"

"Yes. She wasn't there."

"Well, let's take another look," Johnny said, but after another look around the rocks, and after him calling out to Lucy

himself with no answer, Johnny was still for a long few moments.

Charlie felt the change in his demeanor, in his stance. He was more concerned, she could tell.

"I think she's too much of a priss to lay on the ground. What do you think she's done?" Charlie asked.

"Dunno," he said. "You run on back to the house, and get a lantern, and get Val. Scott, too. And her daddy."

"Do I have to tell her father?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah, you do. Why wouldn't you?"

"It's just-it will upset everybody-and her mother gets so worked up-"

"She's gonna get a good bit more _worked up_ if that brat of a daughter of hers isn't found right quick, wherever she's hidin'," Johnny said. "And,

Lucy might answer her daddy when he calls to her. Get goin'."

So Charlie ran, again, back up the same stretch. After all that running, she felt sweaty, and her hair was coming loose from its braid. She went

back into the front entrance, and, since Val was the first one that she saw, she talked with him first.

He was frowning, and he said, "Where are the lanterns?"

Charlie told him, and he nodded, and said, "I'll get them. You go and do as Johnny said."

Reluctant, and nervous, Charlie went to where Scott stood, talking with Mr. Beets, and Miss Lyons. Uncertain of whether to spill the story

in front of Beets and Miss Lyons.

Scott greeted her with a slight smile, as did Mr. Beets, as well. "Hey, kiddo," Scott said, in greeting. He brushed her hair away from her face.

"Have you been running?" he asked.

"Johnny said for me to come and get you," Charlie said, breathless. She briefly told him how Lucy had disappeared and was hiding somewhere.

Immediately, Scott said, "I'll get her father. You go and fetch Murdoch. Wait out front so you can show us where she was."

Charlie nodded, and went to find Murdoch, who was in conversation with a group of the guests.

Murdoch took in Charlie's appearance, and excused himself, and stood, listening, his expression grave.

Outside, again, Mr. Stone was obviously upset, but said, "I'd rather locate Lucy before we worry her mother."

Murdoch nodded. "Of course."

Charlie went with Murdoch, Scott and Mr. Stone, and showed them where it was that Lucy had been. There were lantern lights in the

fields, which was Val and Johnny, obviously.

Mr. Stone called out to Lucy, over and over, as he joined the other men in trooping around the fields. There was no answer.

Charlie began to be frightened. Why wasn't Lucy coming out from hiding? Maybe she'd walked too far, and gotten lost. Maybe she'd fallen and

hurt herself-maybe-

Following along behind the men, Charlie stumbled. In a hole, or on a clump of raised dirt. Something. Murdoch reached out to

steady her.

"Alright?" he asked her.

"Yes," Charlie said, breathless from the pace the men had been walking at.

Murdoch paused. Charlie could see his profile lit by the lantern light.

He turned as if judging something. "I want you to go back to the house. You can see the lights from here. Take this lantern."

"Oh, no, Murdoch! Please. Let me stay with you," Charlie pleaded.

The sound of Lucy's father calling her name, and also Val, and Johnny, as well, rang out across the darkness.

"Please," Charlie said, when Murdoch stood silent.

In answer, Murdoch took her hand in his in a firm grip, and they walked on.

**L**

It was later, Charlie wasn't certain how long they'd been looking in the fields, calling out to Lucy.

At one point, when the group of men gathered together to talk, Mr. Stone looked at Charlie in the lantern

lights.

"What were you girls doing out here?" he demanded of her, his voice rough.

Charlie caught her breath, but before she could answer, Scott spoke, his voice just as rough. "They weren't out in the fields, Bruce. They were walking on

the road in front of the house. Lucy deciding to hide isn't anything to do with Charlie."

So many thoughts and feelings went thru me right then. Relief that Scott thought that Lucy was only likely hiding, and wasn't harmed. Relief that

he didn't blame her for what Lucy had gotten up to. Warmth at Scott's defense of her.

"Lucy wouldn't just be hiding," Mr. Stone said, and then he seemed to falter somewhat. "She wouldn't-worry us this way."

"I'm sure she's around here," Murdoch said, sounding confident. "Let's get back to looking."

And Lucy was, indeed, _around. _

**L**


	30. And on it goes

Charlie wasn't certain how much more time passed, but it was enough that Murdoch suggested that he leave the fields and go back towards

the hacienda and barns to search. She was weary, and felt a chill seeping into her bones. She also must have stepped into a wet bit of ground because

it felt as though one of her feet was damp.

"We've looked there," Mr. Stone said, as they stood again in a group, to talk things over.

"I'll give it another look, just in case," Murdoch said. Even in the lantern light Charlie could see how strained and worried

Mr. Stone seemed to be.

"Where could she have gotten to?" Mr. Stone asked, running a hand over his face, and letting it drop back to his side.

"She's likely playing a bit of a trick," Val said. "We don't want her to be out here overnight, though, that's for certain."

Mr. Stone shook his head, but didn't reply.

"Coming with me?" Murdoch asked Charlie, and Charlie nodded. Then, realizing that he might not have seen her nod in the

light of the lantern, she said, "Yes."

"After you get up there, I want you to go on back into the house," Scott said, in a low tone, to her. He put a hand on her back.

"I want to help, though-" Charlie protested, also low.

"You've got to be getting chilled out here. I want you to get warmed up, and get something hot to drink."

Charlie _was_ chilled. And a hot drink sounded heavenly. But, she still felt as though she should be out _here,_ helping to search

for Lucy.

For some silly, irrational reason, Charlie felt weepy.

"But, Scott-" she protested further.

"No argument," Scott said, his tone firm.

And, that, Charlie thought, was _that._

"What should I say to Lucy's mother?" she asked, feeling as though she couldn't cope if Mrs. Stone became hysterical, or such.

"I'll take care of that," Murdoch said. He turned towards Mr. Stone. "After we've looked around the barns another time, perhaps you should

let Belle know."

"I think that's wise," Val said, quietly.

"I hate to do that," Mr. Stone said, sounding reluctant.

"We've been looking for over an hour, Will," Val said, in a rational way. "Could be that Lucy's up at the house right now. But, if she's not, then

I think you should tell your wife what's happening."

Mr. Stone agreed, still reluctant, and he and Val began to walk towards the lit-up house.

For some inexplicable reason, Charlie felt as though she was going to burst into tears. She actually gave a sniffle, rubbing at her

nose, her fingers cold.

"I'll keep on lookin' out here for a while," Johnny said. "Comin', Scott?"

"Yeah." Scott paused, and then leaned down a bit, putting his hands on Charlie's upper arms.

"None of this is your fault, Charlie. You know that, don't you?" he said.

His words, and the kindness in the way that he spoke them, only served to make Charlie feel _more_ emotional. She knew he'd meant his words

to comfort and reassure her.

Charlie bobbed her head in reply.

"Alright," Scott said, straightening back to his full height. He gave Charlie a pat, and then he was gone, off into the night darkness with Johnny,

the lights of their lanterns bobbing.

Charlie trudged along with Murdoch, who never released her hand, until they'd reached the lights of the house. Mrs. Stone was standing outside,

her shawl wrapped around her shoulders, and she was, predictably, crying. It made Charlie feel all _cringy_ inside, seeing Lucy's mother

shake and cry that way.

"Where could she be?" Mrs. Stone was wailing. Teresa stood nearby, trying to console the distraught woman. Mr. Beets, meanwhile,

had donned a jacket and was standing to the side.

"Can I help in some way?" Mr. Beets asked Murdoch, after he'd walked over to Murdoch and Charlie.

"I'd be glad to have you with me. I'm going to take a closer looks at the buildings and the barns," Murdoch told him.

"Right, then," Mr. Beets said, and began towards the corral.

Val had disappeared, and Mr. Stone stood, patting his wife's shoulder, in an ineffectual way.

"Go inside, and ask Maria to give you some hot tea," Murdoch told Charlie. "Warm up by the fire."

Charlie gave only a weary nod, and skirted past the wailing Mrs. Stone, and inside, via the back door.

Maria was drinking her own steaming cup of hot brew, either coffee or tea, and had finished tidying the kitchen after the

dinner party. She looked up at Charlie's entrance, and then, without saying a word, went to take the teakettle from the stove,

and began to prepare a cup of tea. Charlie sat at the kitchen table, her chair edged close to the stove, as the heat began to

permeate thru her chilled limbs.

"I don't know where Lucy went," she said, watching Maria sprinkle a liberal amount of sugar into the cup of tea.

"Traviesa," Maria said, setting the cup in front of Charlie. "Very naughty. Lucy."

She motioned to Charlie to drink, and they sat together in the kitchen, hearing the guests that were left still talking throughout the

house.

"Are you going home?" Charlie asked, knowing that Maria's work was completed for the evening, and that she would want to get

home to her own family.

"Si. Soon," Maria said.

"My feet are cold," Charlie admitted, as she finished the cup of tea.

Maria stood up, taking the empty cup to the sink. "Get dry," she said, motioning upstairs.

Charlie headed upstairs, and was halfway up when she heard a voice from the bottom of the stairs.

"Charlie?" It was Hallie Lyons. "Are you alright?" Her voice was soft, and concerned.

"Yes. I'm alright."

"They're still looking? For the Stone's daughter?" Miss Lyons asked.

Charlie gave a nod. "I have to go and change," she said.

Hallie nodded. "Of course."

Charlie went to her bedroom, and shed her shoes and wet-footed stockings, and then her dress and petticoats. She hurriedly changed

to a pair of clean overalls and a warm, long-sleeved brown blouse. She found her warmest pair of socks and pulled them on.

There was a light tap on her door, and, thinking it was Teresa, Charlie went to open it. Instead of Teresa, though, it was

Hallie Lyons standing there in the hall.

"I thought I'd see if you needed anything, or if I could help you with something," she said. "Teresa seems to have her hands full,

tending to Mrs. Stone."

For a moment, Charlie was surprised into shy silence, unsure of what to say.

Hallie gave a slight smile. "I could help you brush out your hair, and do up a new braid. It sounds as though the evening might go on

for a while yet."

"Okay," Charlie said, and within a few minutes she was seated, and Hallie had brushed out the tangles, and had made a neat

braid of Charlie's hair.

"You really have beautiful hair," Hallie said, tying off the finished braid. "It's so thick."

"Thank you," Charlie said.

Hallie went to replace the hairbrush onto the dressing table, and came to sit beside Charlie on the window seat.

"I'm sure they'll find her soon," she said, in a reassuring manner.

"I hope so," Charlie said. "She was there-and then she was gone."

"It sounds as though you did everything just right," Hallie said.

Grateful, Charlie looked at her. "Scott says it wasn't my fault, but it feels like it sort of is."

"Nonsense," Hallie said, with spirit. "Scott is absolutely correct. We have a joke between us, Scott and I. The joke is that

he's _always, always_ right about things. I tend to fly off the handle a bit at times, and he's always spot-on with his advice."

Charlie took that in, enjoying the moment of getting to know the woman sitting beside her.

"Scott's real smart about things," Charlie said, in agreement.

"That he is." Hallie paused. "We're great friends, Scott and I."

She hesitated, and said, softly, "I value his friendship very much. I want you to know-he talked about you, right off, the

first time that I met him." She smiled at Charlie. "He thinks that you're really something special."

Warmth spread thru Charlie at that comment. Knowing that Scott had talked about her to this vibrant, outgoing young

woman, that he'd shared what Charlie meant to him-it made her feel sort of _squishy_ inside.

"I think he is, too," Charlie confided. "Special, I mean."

"We have that in common, then," Hallie said, with a flashing smile. She got to her feet, and, without preamble, took Charlie's hand,

pulling her to her feet.

"Let's go down, and see what's happening," Hallie said. "Maybe they've found your friend by now."

"She's not my friend," Charlie said, bluntly, without thinking it out first.

If anything, Hallie looked approving. "I'm glad," she said, and linked her arm thru Charlie's. "She doesn't seem like the sort of a

girl that you would care to be bosom friends with."

**L**


	31. Search squad

The downstairs, in the great room, and the dining room, were emptied of guests, other than Mrs. Stone, Teresa, Miss Hallie's sister and the

neighboring rancher's wife that had been seated next to Charlie at suppertime.

When she saw Charlie, Mrs. Stone's facial expression crumpled even more than it had been.

"What were you girls _doing?"_ she lamented, sponging at her face with a lace handkerchief.

"We were only walking," Charlie said, wishing that she'd stayed upstairs.

"She's sure to be found, anytime now," Teresa said, in a soothing tone.

"Anything could have happened-" Mrs. Stone continued. Looking to Charlie again, she said, "Were you girls having a squabble? And Lucy

got upset?"

Charlie was grateful for Miss Hallie's light touch on her elbow, and said, stiffly, "I wanted to come back to the house. Lucy didn't want to."

"Ohhh," Mrs. Stone said, in distress.

"I'm sure Lucy made up her own mind as to what she wanted to do," Teresa said, and Charlie felt heartened at Teresa's defense.

"Perhaps," Mrs. Stone allowed. "But she must be lost-or hurt-she wouldn't be playing a trick. My Lucy's not that sort of cruel, to worry

me this way-"

To Charlie's relief, Mrs. Wilson took abrupt charge. "Teresa, let me sit," she ordered, and took Teresa's spot next to Mrs. Stone.

"You go and see if they've found her," she instructed, including Teresa, Charlie, Miss Hallie and her sister in her directions. "I'll sit

here with Belle."

Teresa looked relieved and ushered Charlie ahead of her, as the four of them stepped from the great room, and thru the dining room

to the kitchen.

"My goodness," Teresa said, with a sigh, sinking into one of the kitchen chairs.

"You look all done in," Miss Clarice said. "How about some tea?"

"Yes," Teresa said, and Clarice began filling cups with water from the teakettle, and, a few moments later, they were all seated

at the table, with cups before them.

"The water's still hot enough, don't you think?" Clarice asked, and Teresa and Hallie agreed that it was.

Charlie sipped at her own, feeling subdued. Teresa reached out to smooth back Charlie's hair.

"Don't let what Mrs. Stone said bother you," Teresa said, trying to comfort.

Charlie shrugged, and took another sip. "She thinks it's my fault," she said, dejected.

"It's not," Teresa said, firmly.

"No," Miss Hallie said. "Remember? Scott's always right." She smiled in encouragement across the table at Charlie.

Charlie smiled in return, but it was a small smile. She wished that Lucy would just pop out of wherever she was hiding, already.

At least, Charlie was _almost nearly_ certain that Lucy was just hiding. That some terrible _something or other_ hadn't befallen her.

Still...the thought of that _something or other_ is what kept Charlie's insides all clinched up in nerves and worry.

Teresa was just saying that some fresh hot coffee should be prepared, so that the men could have a hot drink. She got up to

begin that task, when there was a scraping at the back door, and Murdoch came inside, with Mr. Stone on his heels.

"Where's my wife?" Mr. Stone asked, without preamble.

"She's with Mrs. Wilson, in the other room," Teresa said, pointing.

Mr. Stone walked swiftly by, his face looking drawn and worried.

"Have you-" Teresa began to ask Murdoch, as he shook his head.

"No. Not yet," Murdoch said.

"Oh," Teresa said, quietly.

Hallie stood, gesturing to the chair she'd been sitting in. "Sit down, Mr. Lancer," she offered.

"No. Thank you," Murdoch said. "I just came to find another lantern."

"I'll get it," Teresa said, and scurried from the kitchen.

Charlie had gotten to her feet, and came to stand beside Murdoch. She was silent, just standing beside him. Murdoch reached out

to pat her back. "Did you get warmed?" he asked, quietly.

Charlie bobbed her head in answer, looking up at him out of wide brown eyes. Murdoch moved to step back outside the back door, and Charlie

padded after him. She slipped her hand into his large one.

"I'm getting worried," she admitted. "I thought at first-that she was only just hiding somewhere or somethin', but she wouldn't have

stayed outside all this time-unless something really did happen because she doesn't like to get dirty, or cold, or anything like that-"

"I know," Murdoch said, squeezing her hand. "Try not to worry."

Teresa reappeared, carrying a lantern. "Here you are," she said.

"Thank you, sweetheart," he said.

"I could come and help," Teresa offered.

"No. You'd do best to stay inside. You have enough to contend with, dealing with Belle."

"Mrs. Wilson is with her," Teresa reminded. "I can _help-"_

"No," Murdoch said, again, his tone sharp. Immediately, he seemed regretful. He reached out and gathered Teresa in with one arm, and

Charlie with his other arm. "I'm sorry for snapping at you," he said.

"It's alright," Teresa said. "I know you're worried."

"Yes. I am," Murdoch admitted. "It won't do for her to be outside all thru the night. I don't like the fact that we haven't located her

yet."

Charlie felt a lump in her throat tighten. "I shouldn't have left her," she said.

"You did _exactly_ right," Murdoch said, firmly.

"Yes. There's no way you could have gotten Lucy to do anything that she didn't want to do," Teresa said.

Mr. Stone came out again, his steps seeming heavy. He looked to Murdoch, and sighed. "Well-" he said, and

trudged off into the darkness.

"Alright. I'd better get along," Murdoch said, and just as Charlie was reluctantly releasing his hand, he paused, looking thoughtful.

"You don't suppose," he said.

"Suppose what?" Teresa asked him.

"Well, Charlie's comment a moment ago-how Lucy doesn't care to get dirty, and such-" he hesitated, still thinking.

"Yes?" Teresa prompted.

"Well, it's just a thought. Is it possible she's hiding in the house?" Murdoch asked, sounding contemplative. "Could she have circled back and

slipped inside without being noticed?"

"I never thought of that," Teresa said, and turned immediately. "We'll start-"

"Wait, now," Murdoch cautioned. "Don't say anything to Belle just yet. Enlist Hallie and Clarice to help you look over the house, but don't let

on to Lucy's mother as to what you're doing. No point in upsetting her more, if Lucy's not in the house. If you find her, one of you ring the bell to let

the men know. Alright?"

Both Teresa and Charlie nodded in agreement, and Murdoch walked into the darkness after Mr. Stone

"If she is-" Teresa muttered under breath, sounding angry. Once back in the kitchen, Teresa told Hallie and Clarice about their task of searching the

house over for the errant Lucy.

"Oooo," Hallie said, her eyes flashing. "Do you suppose-I mean, is she that horrid of a child?"

Charlie and Teresa exchanged a glance, and then Teresa said, "Well, let's see if we can find her first, and then we can answer that

question."

**L**

**Short chapter, hope everybody is doing well, and finding some joy in their days.**


	32. Lantern lights laid down

_And the search was on, and here comes trouble in the back_ stretch...the house search began, with Teresa, Hallie, her sister, and Charlie

taking different parts of the house. All without alerting Lucy's mother that they were searching over the house for the errant Lucy.

"Check your room," Teresa told Charlie, in a low voice.

"I changed my clothes earlier-she wasn't in there-I'd have seen her if she had been," Charlie protested.

"You never know-she might have slipped in there afterwards," Teresa said. "Check to be sure."

"Okay," Charlie said, and made her own bedroom the first stop. She entered quietly, and looked around-there weren't many hiding

places, really, except maybe one spot. Charlie got down on her hands and knees, peering under the bed. There were dust bunnies-and a pencil-but

no Lucy.

Charlie got to her feet, brushing off the knees of her overalls. "Knew she'd never go under there," Charlie muttered to herself. "She wouldn't

want to get dusty."

Charlie paused in the hallway, considering. Teresa was coming out of Murdoch's bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her.

"No?" Teresa asked, and Charlie shook her head.

"No."

"I've looked in my bedroom, and Murdoch's-you look in Scott's, alright?" Teresa said. "I'll check Johnny's."

"Okay," Charlie said, and opened Scott's bedroom door. The room was, as was usual, tidy. There were more places that Lucy could have

hidden in here. It was a larger room, and Scott had a enormous wardrobe. A little girl could squeeze into there, Charlie thought. After she'd peered

under Scott's bed, she tiptoed to the wardrobe, and thrust the door open with a quick jerk.

Fully expecting to find Lucy crouched there, Charlie felt a bit let down when the wardrobe only showed Scott's well-arranged shirts, and

extra pair of boots.

Charlie closed the door to the wardrobe, and looked around the room, considering. Thinking. _Where were other places that Lucy might_

_be hiding? _ If it had been for herself, searching for a place to hide in-well, the cellar, or the attic might have been options. But, with Lucy-?

No. There was no possible way that Lucy would risk encountering a mouse or spider in the cellar, and the attic door was a bit difficult to maneuver-

Charlie knew that first-hand, because she liked to go up there sometimes, and look thru the trunks of old-fashioned clothing, and pretend she was

managing a store as a shop-girl.

Lucy wouldn't have been able to manage the attic door without being detected, since it was so difficult, and squeaky, besides.

Charlie was just heading out of Scott's bedroom, pulling the door closed behind her, when she heard a sharp piercing whistle.

It sounded as though it was coming from downstairs, and Charlie made a run to the staircase, and down, as fast as she could, Teresa behind

her.

From the library, there were noises, a high-pitched little girl's voice, whiny; a woman's lamenting, and tears; and when Teresa and Charlie

came in, it was to find Mrs. Stone bending over and peering under Murdoch's large Oak desk.

Mrs. Stone was directing her attentions and words to the space underneath the desk, while Clarice and Hallie stood nearby. Hallie

had her hands on her hips, and was looking disapproving, _angry even._

"She's there," Hallie said, gesturing in the direction of Mrs. Stone's interest, as Teresa and Charlie came around to stand

with her.

"Come out now," Mrs. Stone was coaxing.

To Charlie's dismay, Lucy was perched under the desk, her hands full of cookies. And, other than her hair being slightly mussed, it seemed to

Charlie that Lucy looked just as pristine as she always did. And, just as was usual, she had a pout on her face.

"I found her, hiding under there," Hallie said, to Teresa and Charlie. "Just as though she didn't have a care in the world-"

"Come on, darling," Mrs. Stone persisted, and Charlie peered closer at Lucy, wondering why she was so reluctant to come out of her

hiding hole.

"I don't want you to fuss at me," Lucy said, sounding petulant.

"I was so worried-" Lucy's mother said, but then in haste, "Darling, of course I won't fuss, I'm just so relieved-"

Lucy, apparently convinced, scooted on her bottom, and came out, getting to her feet.

Suddenly, with spirit, Hallie said, "You've had everyone worried, you silly girl," to Lucy.

Lucy gave a shrug, and Hallie's eyes flashed. She looked ready to give Lucy what-for, and Charlie felt an immense liking for the older girl.

She felt furious, _herself-_ how _dare_ Lucy have everyone so concerned, and be hiding under the desk like this-

"Were you under there the whole time?" Charlie asked Lucy, curious despite being furious.

Lucy shook her head, looking triumphant, one of her long coiled curls bouncing, and Charlie had a nearly overwhelming urge to yank on that blonde curl.

"You're horrid-" Charlie said, thinking of the men, out searching in the chilly air. Even knowing Lucy as she did, Charlie was shocked

at how selfishly Lucy had behaved.

"Charlie-" Teresa said, meant to caution Charlie from letting her tongue run away with her. "Go and ring the bell," Teresa said, in a

quieter tone.

Charlie gave Lucy a squint-eyed glare, and went out to pull the rope and clang the bell, to signal the men in the fields.

Then she ran back indoors, and back to the library, wanting to get back to the situation and see whether Lucy had gotten a

telling-off.

Lucy was now installed on the sofa, her mother sitting beside her, anxiously patting at Lucy.

Mrs. Wilson had begun gathering up dishes from the guests and Clarice went to help her.

"Do you want me to start some more coffee, Teresa?" Mrs. Wilson asked, and Teresa nodded.

"Yes, thank you," she said, sounding grateful.

Mrs. Wilson gave Lucy a look as she passed by, tut-tutting under her breath, in disapproval.

Charlie was ever more curious about where Lucy had gotten to, before she took up residence under Murdoch's desk-she had

to have slipped into the house amid all the turmoil, without being spotted-

"Come on," Teresa said, urging Charlie from the room.

"Why?" Charlie said, in protest, as Teresa became firmer, pushing her a bit, in the center of her back.

"Let her have some time with her mother, in private," Teresa said.

"Murdoch's going to be really angry," Charlie said.

"No doubt," Teresa said, in agreement. "They should be getting here, and they'll need some coffee-help me pick up the

rest of these plates and things."

"Maybe I should ring the bell again-" Charlie was suggesting, as they heard the front door open, and boots scuffing on the floor.

"Here they are," Teresa said, as Mr. Stone burst into the great room, his boots leaving wet spots on the floor, and running a hand

thru his hair. Murdoch followed behind him, and then Val.

"Where is she?" asked Mr. Stone, sounding frantic.

"She's in the library," Teresa said, quietly, as all three men made a line in that direction.

Charlie moved to follow, but Teresa caught at the back of her overalls.

"I want to go-" Charlie protested.

"You don't need to," Teresa said, and then-there was no need to follow, because Val's voice could be heard, raised and angry.

He was letting Lucy know without any doubt, that she had been foolish and had caused everyone a great deal of unnecessary

worry. Mrs. Stone's voice could be heard then, too, soft and pleading, but Charlie couldn't make out the words.

"I don't hear Mr. Stone," she whispered to Teresa, as they stood, listening.

"No."

"Why isn't he even hollering?" Charlie asked.

"I doubt that he will," Teresa said.

And then Lucy set up a wail, crying, and protesting loudly that everyone was picking on her.

Murdoch came from the library, and both Teresa and Charlie took note of his set jaw, a sure sign of his anger.

"Hello, girls," he said, in greeting, and wrapping an arm around both of them.

"Mrs. Wilson was making some fresh coffee," Teresa told him.

"That sounds really good," Murdoch said.

"I'll go and see if it's nearly done," Teresa said, and went off towards the kitchen.

Murdoch gave a deep sigh, and patted Charlie's shoulder, almost absently.

"Scott and Johnny haven't come in yet?" he asked Charlie.

At the shake of her head, Murdoch sighed again. "What an evening," he said, not loudly, almost to himself.

"I don't know how she got inside without someone seeing her," Charlie said, looking up into his weary-looking face.

Murdoch patted her again, and when he was silent, Charlie asked, "Is Lucy even going to get into any trouble?"

Murdoch's jaw seemed to tighten even more, and he said nothing in response to her question. He said, instead,"Go out and see if you

see the boys coming. If not, ring the bell again, would you, sweetheart?"

"Yes. I will," Charlie said, and went out the front door. Mr. Wilson was standing there, smoking a cheroot. He seemed a quiet man, and

he nodded at Charlie.

"I'm seeing if Johnny and Scott are coming," Charlie said, in explanation, and Mr. Wilson nodded again.

"I believe I heard them-coming from over there," Mr. Wilson said, pointing to the field beyond the barn. "It sounded like

voices."

"Thank you," Charlie said, and ran towards the barn, pausing at the side to cock her head and listen. Yes, she could hear them

talking, and getting closer. In the darkness now, she saw a lantern light bobbing along, only for a moment, and then it was

put out.

She ran out a bit more, in the direction of the light, and then paused, as the voices drew closer yet.

She called out to Scott, and he answered, and Charlie walked a bit further, seeing their outlines as the lantern light shone again.

"They found Lucy?" Scott asked, as Charlie reached out in the darkness and found his hand.

"Yes. Miss Hallie found her-she was hiding under Murdoch's desk in the library!" Charlie relayed, sounding a bit breathless from

her running.

"_Mocosa,"_ Johnny muttered.

"I don't know how she got in without someone seeing her," Charlie chattered on, as they continued walking towards the house.

"She was eating cookies under there," Charlie said, and then added, "Mr. Val was yelling at her something fierce!"

"Val's not one to put up with any nonsense," Johnny said.

"Her mother was just crying and crying," Charlie said.

"She needs a good wallopin'," Johnny said.

Scott had been mostly quiet, and Charlie squeezed his hand. "They were making some coffee," she told him.

"Sounds good," Scott said.

**L**

In front of the house, Mr. and Mrs. Wilson were preparing to get into their buggy, and take their leave, as Murdoch saw them

off. There were thanks given on both sides, and Mr. Wilson spoke and said goodbye to Johnny and Scott, and their buggy went

off down the long drive.

"Party's over, huh?" Johnny said, dryly.

"I would say so," Murdoch said, in response, just as dryly.

"Where's the little brat?" Johnny asked. "Out in the woodshed gettin' tanned?"

Murdoch gave a _humph_ sort of a sound. "If it were up to me-then yes, she would be. But, no, she's still in the library with

her mother."

The door opened and Val came out, lighting up a rolled-up cigarette from his shirt pocket.

"Whew," he said.

"How is the little darlin'?" Johnny asked, sounding amused. "Did you get her straightened out, Val?"

"It would take a good bit to straighten that one out," Val said, darkly, puffing on his cigarette.

Val relayed the information that Lucy had admitted to hiding behind the barn, and then slipping into the house, thru the kitchen, and,

finally, to the empty library.

The door opened again, and Mr. Stone came out. It seemed to Charlie that he was embarrassed, as he held his hat in his

hand, and apologized for the uproar that Lucy had caused.

"I think she thought it would be a clever trick," Mr. Stone rambled on. "She didn't realize it would be so upsetting to her mother, or

consider that we'd all be searching for her-"

Charlie watched Murdoch when Mr. Stone was saying all of that. Murdoch still wore his disapproving expression, she could tell that from

the light shining from the entryway.

"I'm glad she wasn't hurt, or lost," Murdoch said, in answer.

"Yes. Again, I apologize-" Mr. Stone said, as his wife and errant daughter appeared. Lucy had on her cloak with the fur around the collar,

and Charlie saw her give Murdoch, and Val, a rather wary glance.

"Lucy feels badly about what happened this evening," Mrs. Stone said. To this, when Lucy said nothing,

Murdoch prompted, "Do you, young lady? You had us all very concerned for your well-being."

Tears welled up in Lucy's big blue eyes, and Charlie was sure that the adults would feel pity for her, though she herself doubted the

tears were real ones.

"I hope you won't do anything like this again," Murdoch continued, still sounding severe, and not seeming to notice the tears.

Lucy turned her head away, into her mother's side, and Mr. Stone cleared his throat, and said, "Well, we'll take our leave now. Thank

you for the meal-"

"Yes, thank you," echoed Mrs. Stone.

And, the little family got into their buggy, and trotted away.

Without realizing it, Charlie let out a sigh. Val gave Charlie a comradery look. "Glad to see the back of her?" he asked.

Wondering if she should state her true feelings, Charlie hesitated, and then nodded her head.

"Can't say as I blame you," Val said.

When they all went inside, there was coffee and more cake, and then all the adults sat and talked. And talked. Not about what had

happened with Lucy that evening, but about other things. Charlie was allowed to stay up, and she ate another piece of chocolate cake,

staying quiet mostly, as she didn't want to remind them of her presence and be sent off to bed. She was enjoying hearing Hallie and her sister

talk and tell stories of their growing up, traveling all over with their father who'd been in the Army.

Finally, when it was nearly ten o'clock, Val and Clarice, and Hallie took their leave. Hallie shook Charlie's hand as though she

were a grown lady, and said, "I've enjoyed meeting you. I think we're going to be great friends, Charlie."

"I'd like that," Charlie told her.

Once it was just them, the family, Murdoch told Teresa to leave the rest of the clearing up until the morning.

Once Charlie had been sent to her bedroom, to prepare for bed, she was sitting on her bed, in her nightgown, yawning,

when Scott came to say goodnight.

They wouldn't read tonight, he told Charlie. Since it was so late.

Even though she was sleepy, Charlie felt like talking a bit more to him. She coaxed him to sit down on the bed while she lay

back on her pillows, her quilt tucked up around her.

"I like Miss Hallie," she told Scott. It wouldn't, Charlie thought, be quite so hard to have to share Scott, as long as it was with

someone like Hallie. She almost wished that Scott felt that _special sort of love_ for Miss Hallie that he'd talked to her about. But, he'd said

they were only very good friends.

"Do you?" he asked, and at Charlie's nod, he added, "I'm glad. She's a very good person."

"She's funny, too," Charlie said.

"Yes. She is," Scott said, in agreement.

He was tucking the quilt up tighter around her, and Charlie knew he was getting ready to say his goodnights and leave.

"What do you think about Lucy?" she asked, to keep him talking.

"I think she did a very thoughtless thing tonight."

"I meant-what do you think of _her?"_ Charlie persisted.

Scott looked contemplative, and then he said, "I don't know her very well. I think she's impulsive. Prone to poor behavior."

"I don't think she's nice," Charlie said. "Not at all."

Scott regarded her somberly for a long moment. "I think we can all understand your feelings about her a lot more clearly now."

A moment of understanding passed between them, and Charlie smiled at him.

"I'm not saying that you should be unkind to her," he said. "You understand that, right?"

At Charlie's nod, he said, "But, even though I want you to still treat her the way you'd like to be treated-" he paused. And a glimmer of

a smile curved at the side of his mouth. "I don't think any of us, including Teresa, will ask that you entertain her, ever again."

**L**


	33. Miss Hummel

Things settled back into a routine after the Lucy-induced fiasco of a dinner party. The weather was getting a bit cooler, and Maria began to

fuss if she saw Charlie slipping outside in her bare feet.

A new teacher had been hired-a woman from the East-named Miss Hummle. Charlie thought that was a funny sort of a name, and

when Murdoch was talking of it one evening, Charlie was tucked up against his side in his oversized chair.

"What's her first name?" she asked, curiously.

"Let's see," Murdoch said, pausing to think. "It seems as though it was Barbara-I think that's it."

"Is she old? I hope not," Charlie asked.

"And what would be wrong, if she did happen to be an _older_ woman?" Murdoch asked her, his brow lifted menacingly.

Charlie recognized that for what it really was-an attempt on Murdoch's part to seem fierce and disapproving, but really, underneath,

he was amused.

"Well, I guess it might be alright if she's old," Charlie amended, teasing him right back. "Maybe she might fall asleep in her chair,

and we won't have to do as many lessons."

"We're fortunate to have found a teacher, this late in the school term," Scott spoke up, from his spot on the settee, resting his glass

of bourbon on his knee.

"You're right about that," Murdoch said. He tugged one of Charlie's braids gently with the hand that was wrapped around her shoulder.

"Whether she's young and beautiful, or old and sleepy, you need to be the best student that you can be," Murdoch said.

"Yes, Murdoch," Charlie said, but she let her eyes smile at him, in a secret exchange.

**L**

Charlie had thought that she would be beyond excited whenever school began again. She missed seeing her friends every day, and she did

enjoy most aspects of the school day experience.

Johnny drove her into school the first day. He had feed and supplies to pick up, and Gurth had been favoring a sore foot of late,

so it was decided it would be best for Charlie to ride along with Johnny, and then be picked up in the afternoon. Riding, and holding

onto her lunch pail, full of goodies that Maria had packed, Johnny gave her a nudge.

"Excited?" he asked.

"Yes. Now that it's here, I am. It will be fun to see all the kids again."

Johnny pulled the wagon up, and brought it to a stop. Charlie gathered all her things up, and gave him a bright smile.

"Bye, Johnny," she said, climbing down.

"Bye, pequeno. I'll wanna hear all about your day, later."

"Okay!" Charlie said, and, seeing Rebecca, she ran up to greet her.

**L**

Midway thru the first morning with the new teacher, and Charlie already felt discouraged. _Downtrodden. _ The new teacher

was a bit older, all joking aside, and she had none of Miss Susan's effervescent personality. She was staid, and dowdy, and it seemed

to Charlie that she was unnecessarily curt with her replies to questions.

And, for another thing, she insisted upon calling Charlie by her full, true name. Charlotte. In her past time, of course, Katherine

had always addressed her that way. And now, as always, Mr. Beets still said _Charlotte_ when speaking to her. That was okay, Charlie didn't mind it so much

with Mr. Beets. But-for some reason it really irked her with the new teacher.

She'd tried to explain early in the morning, when asked her name, that she preferred to be called Charlie, as opposed to Charlotte.

Miss Hummle's reply was a curt, "I don't believe in shortened names, or nicknames. In this classroom you will be addressed as

Charlotte at all times."

After checking with several students on their skills in spelling and arithmetic, she shortened the recess, saying that the entire class

was _woefully behind,_ and they would shorten the recess by ten minutes each day, until students began to catch up to where she thought they

should be in their studies.

So, it was a disgruntled group of children who gathered at the shortened outside play.

"We hadn't oughta stand for it," Monte volunteered hotly.

"What can we do?" asked another boy, Frank Colby.

"There's nothin' we _can_ do," Jason spoke up, always the voice of good sense, and reason. "We just hafta get along and follow

the rules."

It was there, at that first recess, that the teacher's new nickname was born.

"Hummle," Monte was musing. "Humble, naw, hawk nose, yeah-Humbug, that's it."

"And her first name's Barbara," Charlie chimed in. "So Ba-Humbug! Just like Scrooge in A Christmas Carol-"

Monte burst into fits of laughter, as did most of the other kids in the group. A couple of the younger boys danced off singing

about Ba-Ba the Humbug, and Jason issued a warning. "You shouldn't oughta talk like that in front of the little guys. They might

slip up and call her that where she can hear."

After the first moments of laughter at her and Monte's joke, Charlie had gotten a tight feeling in her stomach, that perhaps it hadn't been

the best of ideas. Jason's words of caution had only reinforced that.

The bell was ringing. Miss Hummel stood there, frowning.

Charlie sighed, and got up, dusting off the back of her dress.

To Monte, she whispered, "We shouldn't have made up that name-"

"Awe, the little boys will be alright," Monte said. "I'll tell John to shut up about it."

"When did John ever listen to you about anything?" Charlie pointed out.

**L**

The afternoon didn't get any brighter, at least as far as Miss Hummle and her teaching strategies were concerned. By the end

of the day, even Jason seemed discouraged.

"It's gonna be a long, long rest of the school term," Jason said.

**L**

Johnny's grin was bright and welcoming as he sat atop the wagon seat. He held out a hand and Charlie clasped it,

letting him help pull her up.

"How was your first day back?" he asked, as Charlie set her books and pail at her feet.

Charlie shook her head. "Dismal," she said.

Johnny laughed, and then took note of her face, and said, "You mean it," he realized.

"Yeah," Charlie said.

Johnny flapped the reins and put the horse into motion. After a few moments of gloomy silence, he

prompted, "So-not a good day, huh?"

"No," Charlie said.

"The new teacher's not so good, huh?"

Charlie shook her head again. "Johnny, she's horrid! I don't even think she likes kids!"

"That bad?" he asked, and Charlie nodded, until she saw his smile.

"It is that bad, I think," she said, and scooted over closer to him, hooking her arm thru his.

"How about we stop for some pie at the restaurant? Would that cheer ya up?" he offered.

**L**

On the way home, after blueberry pie, Charlie told Johnny all about the day and all of its disappointments. Johnny listened

without many comments, only inserting an occasional _hmmm_ or _uh huh. _ When the hacienda was in sight, Charlie spoke

up again, to say, "Johnny, will you do me a favor?"

"If I can, pequeno. You know that."

"Will you-not say anything to Scott about all of this? About what I've told you?"

Johnny turned to fasten his blue eyes on her face. He was clearly surprised. Puzzled.

"You don't wanna tell him?"

"No. I don't think so."

"Why not?"

Charlie considered her words. "Because-Scott thinks education is so important. He won't think it's right-to talk about a teacher

like that."

"Hmm," Johnny said, and Charlie looked up at him.

"Will you not tell him? He specially wouldn't like it that Monte and me made up that nickname about Miss Hummle."

"You can explain about that. Scott's got a sense of humor, ya know." Johnny said.

"I know he does. It's just-" Charlie hesitated. "I don't want to disappoint him. It's only the first day. Maybe things will get better

with school. I want to try more before I complain to him."

Johnny gave a brief nod. "Alright, pequeno. If that's the way ya want it."

**L**

At supper, Maria had prepared some of Charlie's favorite foods, in celebration of her return to school. Charlie appreciated that,

and told Maria so, giving the older woman a hug of thanks. Still, she found that her appetite was not as robust as was usual.

She ate only one small piece of the crispy chicken, and picked at her remaining food, refusing seconds on even the sweet bread.

"Are you feeling alright?" Scott asked. "You're not eating much."

"I feel alright," Charlie said, and made an effort to finish her vegetables.

"We had pie at the restaurant," Johnny said. "Probably took the edge off of her appetite."

Charlie recognized his comment for the help that it was meant to be. She gave him a small smile.

When she'd first seen Scott, after she and Johnny had arrived back at the ranch, he'd greeted her, asking how her first day back had gone.

Charlie had answered truthfully, but without much details. She'd told him that the teacher was strict-appearing, and that the students

had reservations about how things were going to go.

Scott had looked sympathetic to a certain degree, and said, "Well, maybe she was feeling a bit nervous, herself. Could be she'll get more

comfortable and things'll get better."

Charlie had said only, "I hope so."

At the supper table, Murdoch asked, "Is the teacher young and beautiful?" with a smile.

"Oh, no," Charlie said, immediately, and Murdoch's smile grew wider.

"So, she's old and sleepy, then?" he asked, amused, referring to their conversation from a few days earlier.

"I don't know about the sleepy part," Charlie said, without a smile in return.

The absence of her usual cheerful demeanor did not go unnoticed.

"I imagine Miss Hummel will find her feet," Murdoch said, sounding calm.

"What's that?" Charlie asked, pausing with her fork of mashed potatoes halfway to her mouth.

"Ah, that means that she'll find her way-get accustomed to things," Murdoch explained.

"Oh," Charlie said, and resumed eating.

At bedtime, Scott read from '_Tom Sawyer'_ and then, when he was finished, and Charlie had scooted down under the quilt,

there was a few moments of quiet between them.

"New beginnings are usually strange feeling," Scott said.

Charlie knew he was referring to school, and to the new teacher. She gave a nod in answer.

"You say the other kids think she's too strict," he said, then. "You feel that way, too?"

Charlie hesitated, and then nodded again. She wasn't going to complain, but she wasn't going to _lie,_ either.

"She says she doesn't believe in nicknames," Charlie shared, looking up at him. "She says she'll only call me Charlotte."

For a long moment Scott was silent, and then he said, "Hmmm. Well."

Charlie was quiet, too, watching his face. She couldn't tell what he thought about that. She figured as he wouldn't think it was

such a thing to be too upset about. But, it was important to _her._

"Some teachers are more formal than others," he said.

Charlie didn't know why she felt a bit let down. But she did. She wished that Scott would have been adamant. She wished that he

would have said that it was just darn ridiculous-the fact that Miss Hummel wouldn't call her Charlie.

She gave Scott a hug goodnight, wrapping her arms around his neck, and then, when he'd turned down the lamp and

gone out, leaving her bedroom door slightly ajar, Charlie thought to herself, that she could hope for Miss Hummel to

'_find her feet',_ as Murdoch had said, and find them fast, too.

**L**


	34. No feet Found

Charlie struggled to stay positive in her attitude the next few days. The family tried to help in their own ways. Teresa talked about a

particularly ferocious teacher she'd had in her early years-Murdoch said to give the teacher a chance to-again-"find her feet." Scott

was more quiet with his _bolstering up,_ saying only, every morning, "Have a good day today, kiddo."

The situation in the small school building didn't improve. It seemed, actually, to be going downhill. Faster than a sled on a snowy hill.

Now, most days, hesitating at the bottom of the steps at school, instead of feeling curious about what was going to be taught, or feeling excited, Charlie

found her feet dragging, and her heart heavy.

Miss Hummle seemed to grow more irritated by the day. With the students, and what she spoke of as their "woeful ineptitude" in

subjects they should be far advanced in. With the supplies that were provided. With the manners of some of the children.

Admittedly, some of the kids had ceased to make an effort at all, as far as their studies were concerned. They began whispering and

drawing while Miss Hummle was talking. Infuriated, Miss Hummle would rap her ruler on the wooden desk, and raise her voice.

When she became agitated, it seemed as though her voice would begin to-well, to _trill_ like sort of bird. She would flap her hands

too. This two things caused some of the boys to begin calling her "_the Raven." _ Either that, or the "_Ba Humbug"_ of previous days.

Since she was still trying to keep a brighter outlook, _hard though it was,_ Charlie hadn't shared all her frustrations or what the

kids were up to, fully with Scott.

One afternoon, though, seemingly at her wit's end with her students, Miss Hummle lost her high-pitched tone of aggravation, and

called John to the front of the class. John had been especially irksome that day, even Charlie would agree with that-still-what

happened next caught all of the class by surprise.

"You seem to delight, John, in making this classroom a place where learning cannot take place-and I will tolerate it no longer. Hold

out your hand," Miss Hummle said.

Still with an impish look on his face, John did so, and with a swiftness that surprised him, and all the rest of the students, Miss Hummle

pulled out her wooden ruler, and lowered it sharply onto John's hand.

John yelped, and a horrified hush fell over the room. "The next time you disturb this classroom, John, you will receive two of those," Miss

Hummel warned. "Go to your desk."

John turned and walked back to the desk he shared with his best pal, Tommy Brewer, and there were tears shining from his eyes.

Charlie, who had winced when the ruler came down, looked towards Monte, wondering his reaction to his brother's disgrace.

Monte's cheeks were bright with color, nearly as red as his hair. From where she sat, Charlie could see Monte's fist, doubled in anger,

as if he wished he could pummel the teacher.

The end of the school day came shortly after that, and a group of children gathered outside the school building. John was putting on

a brave show of it, though his usual impish face was tear stained with the silent tears he'd shed. It was when she saw his hand, though, that

Charlie felt her stomach clench. The back of John's hand was puffy and swollen, and it looked as though his fingers were stumpy, not like

fingers at all.

"Look what she done," Tommy Brewer said, furiously.

"We'll get even with her, John," another boy promised.

"Yeah, Monte, what do ya say?" asked Hank Heider. "We'll fix her wagon but good!"

Monte still seemed to have steam coming from his ears. "Dunno yet," he muttered. "Gotta think on it-come on, John."

The group watched the brothers walk away, and, it was a somber group that said their goodbyes, and went their own ways.

Before they did, Rebecca squeezed Charlie's hand. "I don't like school anymore," she whispered.

"Me, either," Charlie said.

"Are ya gonna tell about it at home?" Rebecca asked.

"Maybe."

"If I do, my Pa'll only say that John had it coming. That he should oughta behave," Rebecca said.

The girls said goodbye to each other, and Charlie made her solitary walk to the stables, where Gurth was saddled and

waiting for her. Charlie thanked Mr. Williams and began her ride home.

**L**

When she arrived at the ranch, Jelly came to greet her, carrying a bucket of water.

"How about some help?" he asked her. "I'm gettin' fixed to wash Miss Polly."

"Alright," Charlie said, and Jelly eyed her with his crinkle-eyed stare.

"What's eatin' you?" he asked.

"Just-school," Charlie admitted.

"I hear she's a sour one, that teacher," Jelly said.

"She is," Charlie agreed.

After she'd unsaddled her horse, and rubbed his down, Charlie let him out into the pasture. There was a sharp whistle, and she

looked, to see Johnny giving her a wave. She waved back, and went inside the hacienda.

Maria had prepared a snack, and it waited on the table. Lemonade and two sugar cookies. She turned with a smile to Charlie, and

gestured to the table.

"_Hola. Change and eat,"_ she instructed.

"I'm not hungry, Maria. But thank you."

The older woman turned completely to face Charlie, her forehead furrowed.

"_Sin Hambre?"_

Charlie knew the word '_hambre'. _ "No."

Maria reached out to lay a hand on Charlie's forehead. "_Emferma?"_

Charlie wasn't certain, but she took a guess. It wasn't difficult to determine Maria's question.

"No, ma'm," she said, with a shake of her head.

Maria still looked concerned, but nodded towards the staircase.

Charlie went to change her clothes, pulling on her comfortable overalls with relief. It was such pleasure, to be out of the petticoats and

dress. She could see Jelly from her window, still preparing to wash his pig. Suddenly, or perhaps not so suddenly, Charlie knew she didn't feel like

helping. She didn't want to do anything right at that moment. Except be in the sunshine and to not think about John. John and his swollen hand.

Charlie slipped down the stairs and out the front door, so that Maria wouldn't coax her about the snack again.

Then, it was a bit more slipping about, so that Jelly wouldn't catch sight of her and call her over. Charlie went to the barn, scooping up

her favorite from the latest batch of kittens, and went up the barn loft ladder, where she cuddled the kitten, and breathed in the smells

of the barn, and hay.

She tried to read on the book that she always left up there, in the loft, for when she had spare moments to read. But, she found she couldn't even

focus on the words on the page. Time passed, and she could hear some of the hands, riding in from their afternoon of work.

She was curled against a stack of fresh-smelling hay, still holding the kitten, when she heard footsteps entering the barn.

A voice at the bottom of the ladder spoke. "You up there, kiddo?"

Charlie scooted on her behind over to the ladder opening and peered downwards. "Yes."

"It's time to wash up for supper."

"Oh," Charlie said. The thought of food made her already turbulent stomach even more protesting. When she stayed where she was,

Scott took a step or two closer, so that he could see her more clearly, looking up.

"Come on," he said.

"Do I have to come to the table?" she asked him.

Clearly puzzled, he said, "Why wouldn't you?"

"I'm not hungry, Scott. Honest. Can I not eat, just this once?"

"Are you sick?" he asked.

"No. I'm not sick. Just not hungry."

Scott rubbed at the back of his neck. "I'm getting a knot in my neck, looking up," he said. "Come down, will you?"

Charlie sighed, and came down the ladder, still toting the kitten in one hand.

Once she was at the bottom, and on the ground, Scott laid a hand on her forehead, once, and then moved his hand slightly, to the

side of her face.

"I'm not sick," Charlie said, again.

"Your stomach bothering you?"

Charlie hesitated, and then said, in honesty, "A little. But-not feeling sick sort of bother-just _jumbly."_

"Jumbly, huh?" he asked, and at her brief nod, he considered her, looking thoughtful.

"Was your day not so good?" he asked, then, astutely.

Looking into his tanned, kind face, Charlie felt all her resolve slipping. She, to her own surprise, felt her eyes fill with tears. She shook

her head in answer, swiping at her eye with the palm of her hand.

"Think that might be what's causing you to feel like this? All jumbly?" Scott asked.

Charlie nodded again, and Scott reached into his shirt pocket, taking out a handkerchief. He put a hand on her shoulder, and dabbed at her

cheeks and eyes with the handkerchief.

"What happened?" he asked, quietly.

"It was John-Miss Hummle hit him!" Charlie said, and then the words began to spill out, fast and running over one another. "She called him

up to the front-of the class, and then she hit him _so_ hard-it was too harsh, Scott-"

"Alright," Scott said, his tone soothing, and brushing back her hair from her wet face. "Slow down a bit. Take a breath."

Charlie gulped in air, and Scott asked, then, "So he got whipped?"

"No," Charlie shook her head. "She hit his hand with a ruler."

"Hit his palm?"

"No," she said, again, and felt tears bursting again. "She-it was the back of his hand," she said, and tapped her own hand to

demonstrate. "And his hand's all swollen, and his fingers look chunky!"

For a brief few moments, Scott's face seemed to darken, and then he asked, "You're sure? That it was the back of his hand?"

"Yes, I'm sure-"

"Alright." He patted her cheeks again with the handkerchief, and then pressed it into her hand. "Come inside the house."

"Are you going to make me eat?"

"No. Not right now." Scott took her hand in his, and they began to walk towards the house. "What was John doing that got him

punished?"

"He was whispering, and he dropped his book twice, but he wasn't the only boy doing it-"

"Alright," Scott said, again. In the kitchen, Maria and Teresa were both spooning up food onto platters and into bowls.

"You didn't set the table," Teresa said, over her shoulder to Charlie, as she headed towards the dining room. "You know you're supposed to."

"Sorry," Charlie said, still sounding sniffly. It was enough that it caught Teresa's attention, and she stopped, and turned

back.

"What's wrong?" she asked.

"Wash your hands," Scott told Charlie, giving her a gentle push towards the kitchen pump. Charlie went to obey, and

Scott said, quietly, to Teresa, "I think it's probably alright, about Charlie not setting the table this once, don't you?"

"Oh, yes, sure," Teresa said, and even though Charlie kept her face turned, scrubbing at her fingernails, she could tell that

Teresa sounded sorry.

When Maria and Teresa had gone, carrying the food to the dining table, Scott stepped over to the sink, pulling a hand towel from the

stack that Maria kept nearby. He held it out to Charlie and she took it, drying her hands, and looking up at him.

"Don't feel like eating right now, huh?" he asked.

Charlie shook her head, and he said, "Do you have homework?"

Charlie gave a reluctant nod, and he said, "Well, you can read for awhile, if you want to. We'll tackle the homework

later."

Any other time, Charlie would have thought that Scott had gone totally soft about bypassing rules, but at the moment

she was just very grateful. He'd stood up for her, even though she'd not done her chore of setting the supper table. And now

he was telling her she could read instead of beginning homework right away.

**L**


End file.
